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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12133-0.txt b/12133-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6aa19e5 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6108 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12133 *** +The Lady of the Barge + +by W. W. JACOBS + +1911 + + + + +Contents + + THE LADY OF THE BARGE + THE MONKEY’S PAW + BILL’S PAPER CHASE + THE WELL + CUPBOARD LOVE + IN THE LIBRARY + CAPTAIN ROGERS + A TIGER’S SKIN + A MIXED PROPOSAL + AN ADULTERATION ACT + A GOLDEN VENTURE + THREE AT TABLE + + + + +Illustrations + + He denied it again, hotly. + “You villain!” she said, in a choking voice. + “What’s that?” cried the old woman. + Mrs. Driver fell back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish. + Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the door. + Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast. + “Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?” + He saw another tatterdemalion coming toward him. + “You say you’re a doctor?” + The second officer leaned forward. + “You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen.” + “We’ll leave you two young things alone.” + + + + +THE LADY OF THE BARGE + + +The master of the barge _Arabella_ sat in the stern of his craft with +his right arm leaning on the tiller. A desultory conversation with the +mate of a schooner, who was hanging over the side of his craft a few +yards off, had come to a conclusion owing to a difference of opinion on +the subject of religion. The skipper had argued so warmly that he +almost fancied he must have inherited the tenets of the Seventh-day +Baptists from his mother while the mate had surprised himself by the +warmth of his advocacy of a form of Wesleyanism which would have made +the members of that sect open their eyes with horror. He had, moreover, +confirmed the skipper in the error of his ways by calling him a bargee, +the ranks of the Baptists receiving a defender if not a recruit from +that hour. + +With the influence of the religious argument still upon him, the +skipper, as the long summer’s day gave place to night, fell to +wondering where his own mate, who was also his brother-in-law, had got +to. Lights which had been struggling with the twilight now burnt bright +and strong, and the skipper, moving from the shadow to where a band of +light fell across the deck, took out a worn silver watch and saw that +it was ten o’clock. + +Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above and +began to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of +twenty-two sprang nimbly to the deck. + +“Ten o’clock, Ted,” said the skipper, slowly. “It’ll be eleven in an +hour’s time,” said the mate, calmly. + +“That’ll do,” said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticed +that his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position, +and a fortuitous expression of his mother’s occurred to him: “Don’t +talk to me; I’ve been arguing with a son of Belial for the last +half-hour.” + +“Bargee,” said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice. + +“Don’t take no notice of him, Ted,” said the skipper, pityingly. + +“He wasn’t talking to me,” said Ted. “But never mind about him; I want +to speak to you in private.” + +“Fire away, my lad,” said the other, in a patronizing voice. + +“Speak up,” said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. “I’m +listening.” + +There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the +cabin, and lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, +took a seat on a locker, and again requested the other to fire away. + +“Well, you see, it’s this way,” began the mate, with a preliminary +wriggle: “there’s a certain young woman—” + +“A certain young what?” shouted the master of the _Arabella_. + +“Woman,” repeated the mate, snappishly; “you’ve heard of a woman afore, +haven’t you? Well, there’s a certain young woman I’m walking out with +I—” + +“Walking out?” gasped the skipper. “Why, I never ’eard o’ such a +thing.” + +“You would ha’ done if you’d been better looking, p’raps,” retorted the +other. “Well, I’ve offered this young woman to come for a trip with +us.” + +“Oh, you have, ’ave you!” said the skipper, sharply. “And what do you +think Louisa will say to it?” + +“That’s your look out,” said Louisa’s brother, cheerfully. “I’ll make +her up a bed for’ard, and we’ll all be as happy as you please.” + +He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a series +of whistles of the most amatory description. + +“There she is,” he said. “I told her to wait outside.” + +He ran upon deck, and his perturbed brother-in-law, following at his +leisure, was just in time to see him descending the ladder with a young +woman and a small handbag. + +“This is my brother-in-law, Cap’n Gibbs,” said Ted, introducing the new +arrival; “smartest man at a barge on the river.” + +The girl extended a neatly gloved hand, shook the skipper’s affably, +and looked wonderingly about her. + +“It’s very close to the water, Ted,” she said, dubiously. + +The skipper coughed. “We don’t take passengers as a rule,” he said, +awkwardly; “we ’ain’t got much convenience for them.” + +“Never mind,” said the girl, kindly; “I sha’nt expect too much.” + +She turned away, and following the mate down to the cabin, went into +ecstasies over the space-saving contrivances she found there. The +drawers fitted in the skipper’s bunk were a source of particular +interest, and the owner watched with strong disapprobation through the +skylight her efforts to make him an apple-pie bed with the limited +means at her disposal. He went down below at once as a wet blanket. + +“I was just shaking your bed up a bit,” said Miss Harris, reddening. + +“I see you was,” said the skipper, briefly. + +He tried to pluck up courage to tell her that he couldn’t take her, but +only succeeded in giving vent to an inhospitable cough. + +“I’ll get the supper,” said the mate, suddenly; “you sit down, old man, +and talk to Lucy.” + +In honour of the visitor he spread a small cloth, and then proceeded to +produce cold beef, pickles, and accessories in a manner which reminded +Miss Harris of white rabbits from a conjurer’s hat. Captain Gibbs, +accepting the inevitable, ate his supper in silence and left them to +their glances. + +“We must make you up a bed, for’ard, Lucy,” said the mate, when they +had finished. + +Miss Harris started. “Where’s that?” she inquired. + +“Other end o’ the boat,” replied the mate, gathering up some bedding +under his arm. “You might bring a lantern, John.” + +The skipper, who was feeling more sociable after a couple of glasses of +beer, complied, and accompanied the couple to the tiny forecastle. A +smell compounded of bilge, tar, paint, and other healthy disinfectants +emerged as the scuttle was pushed back. The skipper dangled the lantern +down and almost smiled. + +“I can’t sleep there,” said the girl, with decision. “I shall die o’ +fright.” + +“You’ll get used to it,” said Ted, encouragingly, as he helped her +down; “it’s quite dry and comfortable.” + +He put his arm round her waist and squeezed her hand, and aided by this +moral support, Miss Harris not only consented to remain, but found +various advantages in the forecastle over the cabin, which had escaped +the notice of previous voyagers. + +“I’ll leave you the lantern,” said the mate, making it fast, “and we +shall be on deck most o’ the night. We get under way at two.” + +He quitted the forecastle, followed by the skipper, after a polite but +futile attempt to give him precedence, and made his way to the cabin +for two or three hours’ sleep. + +“There’ll be a row at the other end, Ted,” said the skipper, nervously, +as he got into his bunk. “Louisa’s sure to blame me for letting you +keep company with a gal like this. We was talking about you only the +other day, and she said if you was married five years from now, it ’ud +be quite soon enough.” + +“Let Loo mind her own business,” said the mate, sharply; “she’s not +going to nag me. She’s not _my_ wife, thank goodness!” + +He turned over and fell fast asleep, waking up fresh and bright three +hours later, to commence what he fondly thought would be the +pleasantest voyage of his life. + +The _Arabella_ dropped slowly down with the tide, the wind being so +light that she was becalmed by every tall warehouse on the way. Off +Greenwich, however, the breeze freshened somewhat, and a little later +Miss Harris, looking somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to +hair, came slowly on deck. + +“Where’s the looking-glass?” she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her. +“How does my hair look?” + +“All wavy,” said the infatuated young man; “all little curls and +squiggles. Come down in the cabin; there’s a glass there.” + +Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller, +followed the mate below, and giving vent to a little cry of indignation +as she saw herself in the glass, waved the amorous Ted on deck, and +started work on her disarranged hair. + +At breakfast-time a little friction was caused by what the mate +bitterly termed the narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways of the skipper. +He had arranged that the skipper should steer while he and Miss Harris +breakfasted, but the coffee was no sooner on the table than the skipper +called him, and relinquishing the helm in his favour, went below to do +the honours. The mate protested. + +“It’s not proper,” said the skipper. “Me and ’er will ’ave our meals +together, and then you must have yours. She’s under my care.” + +Miss Harris assented blithely, and talk and laughter greeted the ears +of the indignant mate as he steered. He went down at last to cold +coffee and lukewarm herrings, returning to the deck after a hurried +meal to find the skipper narrating some of his choicest experiences to +an audience which hung on his lightest word. + +The disregard they showed for his feelings was maddening, and for the +first time in his life he became a prey to jealousy in its worst form. +It was quite clear to him that the girl had become desperately +enamoured of the skipper, and he racked his brain in a wild effort to +discover the reason. + +[Illustration: He denied it again, hotly.] + +With an idea of reminding his brother-in-law of his position, he +alluded two or three times in a casual fashion to his wife. The skipper +hardly listened to him, and patting Miss Harris’s cheek in a fatherly +manner, regaled her with an anecdote of the mate’s boyhood which the +latter had spent a goodly portion of his life in denying. He denied it +again, hotly, and Miss Harris, conquering for a time her laughter, +reprimanded him severely for contradicting. + +By the time dinner was ready he was in a state of sullen apathy, and +when the meal was over and the couple came on deck again, so far forgot +himself as to compliment Miss Harris upon her appetite. + +“I’m ashamed of you, Ted,” said the skipper, with severity. + +“I’m glad you know what shame is,” retorted the mate. + +“If you can’t be’ave yourself, you’d better keep a bit for’ard till you +get in a better temper,” continued the skipper. + +“I’ll be pleased to,” said the smarting mate. “I wish the barge was +longer.” + +“It couldn’t be too long for me,” said Miss Harris, tossing her head. + +“Be’aving like a schoolboy,” murmured the skipper. + +“I know how to behave _my_-self,” said the mate, as he disappeared +below. His head suddenly appeared again over the companion. “If some +people don’t,” he added, and disappeared again. + +He was pleased to notice as he ate his dinner that the giddy prattle +above had ceased, and with his back turned toward the couple when he +appeared on deck again, he lounged slowly forward until the skipper +called him back again. + +“Wot was them words you said just now, Ted?” he inquired. + +The mate repeated them with gusto. + +“Very good,” said the skipper, sharply; “very good.” + +“Don’t you ever speak to me again,” said Miss Harris, with a stately +air, “because I won’t answer you if you do.” + +The mate displayed more of his schoolboy nature. “Wait till you’re +spoken to,” he said, rudely. “This is your gratefulness, I suppose?” + +“Gratefulness?” said Miss Harris, with her chin in the air. “What for?” + +“For bringing you for a trip,” replied the mate, sternly. + +“_You_ bringing me for a trip!” said Miss Harris, scornfully. “Captain +Gibbs is the master here, I suppose. He is giving me the trip. You’re +only the mate.” + +“Just so,” said the mate, with a grin at his brother-in-law, which made +that worthy shift uneasily. “I wonder what Loo will say when she sees +you with a lady aboard?” + +“She came to please you,” said Captain Gibbs, with haste. + +“Ho! she did, did she?” jeered the mate. “Prove it; only don’t look to +me to back you, that’s all.” + +The other eyed him in consternation, and his manner changed. + +“Don’t play the fool, Ted,” he said, not unkindly; “you know what Loo +is.” + +“Well, I’m reckoning on that,” said the mate, deliberately. “I’m going +for’ard; don’t let me interrupt you two. So long.” + +He went slowly forward, and lighting his pipe, sprawled carelessly on +the deck, and renounced the entire sex forthwith. At teatime the +skipper attempted to reverse the procedure at the other meals; but as +Miss Harris steadfastly declined to sit at the same table as the mate, +his good intentions came to naught. + +He made an appeal to what he termed the mate’s better nature, after +Miss Harris had retired to the seclusion of her bed-chamber, but in +vain. + +“She’s nothing to do with me,” declared the mate, majestically. “I wash +my hands of her. She’s a flirt. I’m like Louisa, I can’t bear flirts.” + +The skipper said no more, but his face was so worn that Miss Harris, +when she came on deck in the early morning and found the barge gliding +gently between the grassy banks of a river, attributed it to the +difficulty of navigating so large a craft on so small and winding a +stream. + +“We shall be alongside in ’arf an hour,” said the skipper, eyeing her. + +Miss Harris expressed her gratification. + +“P’raps you wouldn’t mind going down the fo’c’sle and staying there +till we’ve made fast,” said the other. “I’d take it as a favour. My +owners don’t like me to carry passengers.” + +Miss Harris, who understood perfectly, said, “Certainly,” and with a +cold stare at the mate, who was at no pains to conceal his amusement, +went below at once, thoughtfully closing the scuttle after her. + +“There’s no call to make mischief, Ted,” said the skipper, somewhat +anxiously, as they swept round the last bend and came into view of +Coalsham. + +The mate said nothing, but stood by to take in sail as they ran swiftly +toward the little quay. The pace slackened, and the _Arabella_, as +though conscious of the contraband in her forecastle, crept slowly to +where a stout, middle-aged woman, who bore a strong likeness to the +mate, stood upon the quay. + +“There’s poor Loo,” said the mate, with a sigh. + +The skipper made no reply to this infernal insinuation. The barge ran +alongside the quay and made fast. + +“I thought you’d be up,” said Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. “Now come +along to breakfast; Ted’ll follow on.” + +Captain Gibbs, dived down below for his coat, and slipping ashore, +thankfully prepared to move off with his wife. + +“Come on as soon as you can, Ted,” said the latter. “Why, what on earth +is he making that face for?” + +She turned in amazement as her brother, making a pretence of catching +her husband’s eye, screwed his face up into a note of interrogation and +gave a slight jerk with his thumb. + +“Come along,” said Captain Gibbs, taking her arm with much affection. + +“But what’s Ted looking like that for?” demanded his wife, as she +easily intercepted another choice facial expression of the mate’s. + +“Oh, it’s his fun,” replied her husband, walking on. + +“_Fun?_” repeated Mrs. Gibbs, sharply. “What’s the matter, Ted.” + +“Nothing,” replied the mate. + +“Touch o’ toothache,” said the skipper. “Come along, Loo; I can just do +with one o’ your breakfasts.” + +Mrs. Gibbs suffered herself to be led on, and had got at least five +yards on the way home, when she turned and looked back. The mate had +still got the toothache, and was at that moment in all the agonies of a +phenomenal twinge. + +“There’s something wrong here,” said Mrs. Gibbs as she retraced her +steps. “Ted, what are you making that face for?” + +“It’s my own face,” said the mate, evasively. + +Mrs. Gibbs conceded the point, and added bitterly that it couldn’t be +helped. All the same she wanted to know what he meant by it. + +“Ask John,” said the vindictive mate. + +Mrs. Gibbs asked. Her husband said he didn’t know, and added that Ted +had been like it before, but he had not told her for fear of +frightening her. Then he tried to induce her to go with him to the +chemist’s to get something for it. + +Mrs. Gibbs shook her head firmly, and boarding the barge, took a seat +on the hatch and proceeded to catechise her brother as to his symptoms. +He denied that there was anything the matter with him, while his eyes +openly sought those of Captain Gibbs as though asking for instruction. + +“You come home, Ted,” she said at length. + +“I can’t,” said the mate. “I can’t leave the ship.” + +“Why not?” demanded his sister. + +“Ask John,” said the mate again. + +At this Mrs. Gibbs’s temper, which had been rising, gave way +altogether, and she stamped fiercely upon the deck. A stamp of the foot +has been for all time a rough-and-ready means of signalling; the +fore-scuttle was drawn back, and the face of a young and pretty girl +appeared framed in the opening. The mate raised his eyebrows with a +helpless gesture, and as for the unfortunate skipper, any jury would +have found him guilty without leaving the box. The wife of his bosom, +with a flaming visage, turned and regarded him. + +[Illustration: “You villain!” she said, in a choking voice.] + +“You villain!” she said, in a choking voice. + +Captain Gibbs caught his breath and looked appealingly at the mate. + +“It’s a little surprise for you, my dear,” he faltered, “it’s Ted’s +young lady.” + +“Nothing of the kind,” said the mate, sharply. + +“It’s not? How dare you say such a thing?” demanded Miss Harris, +stepping on to the deck. + +“Well, you brought her aboard, Ted, you know you did,” pleaded the +unhappy skipper. + +The mate did not deny it, but his face was so full of grief and +surprise that the other’s heart sank within him. + +“All right,” said the mate at last; “have it your own way.” + +“Hold your tongue, Ted,” shouted Mrs. Gibbs; “you’re trying to shield +him.” + +“I tell you Ted brought her aboard, and they had a lover’s quarrel,” +said her unhappy spouse. “It’s nothing to do with me at all.” + +“And that’s why you told me Ted had got the toothache, and tried to get +me off to the chemist’s, I s’pose,” retorted his wife, with virulence. +“Do you think I’m a fool? How dare you ask a young woman on this barge? +How dare you?” + +“I didn’t ask her,” said her husband. + +“I s’pose she came without being asked,” sneered his wife, turning her +regards to the passenger; “she looks the sort that might. You +brazen-faced girl!” + +“Here, go easy, Loo,” interrupted the mate, flushing as he saw the +girl’s pale face. + +“Mind your own business,” said his sister, violently. + +“It is my business,” said the repentant mate. “I brought her aboard, +and then we quarrelled.” + +“I’ve no doubt,” said his sister, bitterly; “it’s very pretty, but it +won’t do.” + +“I swear it’s the truth,” said the mate. + +“Why did John keep it so quiet and hide her for, then?” demanded his +sister. + +“I came down for the trip,” said Miss Harris; “that is all about it. +There is nothing to make a fuss about. How much is it, Captain Gibbs?” + +She produced a little purse from her pocket, but before the embarrassed +skipper could reply, his infuriated wife struck it out of her hand. The +mate sprang instinctively forward, but too late, and the purse fell +with a splash into the water. The girl gave a faint cry and clasped her +hands. + +“How am I to get back?” she gasped. + +“I’ll see to that, Lucy,” said the mate. “I’m very sorry—I’ve been a +brute.” + +“_You?_” said the indignant girl. “I would sooner drown myself than be +beholden to you.” + +“I’m very sorry,” repeated the mate, humbly. + +“There’s enough of this play-acting,” interposed Mrs. Gibbs. “Get off +this barge.” + +“You stay where you are,” said the mate, authoritatively. + +“Send that girl off this barge,” screamed Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. + +Captain Gibbs smiled in a silly fashion and scratched his head. “Where +is she to go?” he asked feebly. + +“Wh’at does it matter to you where she goes?” cried his wife, fiercely. +“Send her off.” + +The girl eyed her haughtily, and repulsing the mate as he strove to +detain her, stepped to the side. Then she paused as he suddenly threw +off his coat, and sitting down on the hatch, hastily removed his boots. +The skipper, divining his intentions, seized him by the arm. + +“Don’t be a fool, Ted,” he gasped; “you’ll get under the barge.” + +The mate shook him off, and went in with a splash which half drowned +his adviser. Miss Harris, clasping her hands, ran to the side and gazed +fearfully at the spot where he had disappeared, while his sister in a +terrible voice seized the opportunity to point out to her husband the +probably fatal results of his ill-doing. There was an anxious interval, +and then the mate’s head appeared above the water, and after a +breathing-space disappeared again. The skipper, watching uneasily, +stood by with a lifebelt. + +“Come out, Ted,” screamed his sister as he came up for breath again. + +The mate disappeared once more, but coming up for the third time, hung +on to the side of the barge to recover a bit. A clothed man in the +water savours of disaster and looks alarming. Miss Harris began to cry. + +“You’ll be drowned,” she whimpered. + +“Come out,” said Mrs. Gibbs, in a raspy voice. She knelt on the deck +and twined her fingers in his hair. The mate addressed her in terms +rendered brotherly by pain. + +“Never mind about the purse,” sobbed Miss Harris; “it doesn’t matter.” + +“Will you make it up if I come out, then,” demanded the diver. + +“No; I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live,” said the girl, +passionately. + +The mate disappeared again. This time he was out of sight longer than +usual, and when he came up merely tossed his arms weakly and went down +again. There was a scream from the women, and a mighty splash as the +skipper went overboard with a life-belt. The mate’s head, black and +shining, showed for a moment; the skipper grabbed him by the hair and +towed him to the barge’s side, and in the midst of a considerable +hubbub both men were drawn from the water. + +The skipper shook himself like a dog, but the mate lay on the deck +inert in a puddle of water. Mrs. Gibbs frantically slapped his hands; +and Miss Harris, bending over him, rendered first aid by kissing him +wildly. + +Captain Gibbs pushed her away. “He won’t come round while you’re +a-kissing of him,” he cried, roughly. + +To his indignant surprise the drowned man opened one eye and winked +acquiescence. The skipper dropped his arms by his side and stared at +him stupidly. + +“I saw his eyelid twitch,” cried Mrs. Gibbs, joyfully. + +“He’s all right,” said her indignant husband; “’e ain’t born to be +drowned, ’e ain’t. I’ve spoilt a good suit of clothes for nothing.” + +To his wife’s amazement, he actually walked away from the insensible +man, and with a boathook reached for his hat, which was floating by. +Mrs. Gibbs, still gazing in blank astonishment, caught a seraphic smile +on the face of her brother as Miss Harris continued her ministrations, +and in a pardonable fit of temper the overwrought woman gave him a box +on the ear, which brought him round at once. + +“Where am I?” he inquired, artlessly. + +Mrs. Gibbs told him. She also told him her opinion of him, and without +plagiarizing her husband’s words, came to the same conclusion as to his +ultimate fate. + +“You come along home with me,” she said, turning in a friendly fashion +to the bewildered girl. “They deserve what they’ve got—both of ’em. I +only hope that they’ll both get such awful colds that they won’t find +their voices for a twelvemonth.” + +She took the girl by the arm and helped her ashore. They turned their +heads once in the direction of the barge, and saw the justly incensed +skipper keeping the mate’s explanations and apologies at bay with a +boat-hook. Then they went in to breakfast. + + + + +THE MONKEY’S PAW + +I + +Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of +Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. +Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the +game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and +unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired +old lady knitting placidly by the fire. + +“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake +after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from +seeing it. + +“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he +stretched out his hand. “Check.” + +“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with +his hand poised over the board. + +“Mate,” replied the son. + +“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden +and unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way +places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a +torrent. I don’t know what people are thinking about. I suppose because +only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.” + +“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the +next one.” + +Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance +between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a +guilty grin in his thin grey beard. + +“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and +heavy footsteps came toward the door. + +The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard +condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with +himself, so that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her +husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye +and rubicund of visage. + +“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him. + +The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the +fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers +and stood a small copper kettle on the fire. + +At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the +little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from +distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke +of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange +peoples. + +“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. +“When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look +at him.” + +“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely. + +“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round +a bit, you know.” + +“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He +put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again. + +“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said +the old man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about +a monkey’s paw or something, Morris?” + +“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth +hearing.” + +“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously. + +“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the +sergeant-major, offhandedly. + +His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly +put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host +filled it for him. + +“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s +just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.” + +He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew +back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously. + +“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it +from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table. + +“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a +very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and +that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a +spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes +from it.” + +His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their +light laughter jarred somewhat. + +“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly. + +The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard +presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face +whitened. + +“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White. + +“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his +strong teeth. + +“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady. + +“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know +what the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got +the paw.” + +His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group. + +“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then, +Morris,” said the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?” + +The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did +have some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused +enough mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a +fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to +try it first and pay me afterward.” + +“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him +keenly, “would you have them?” + +“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.” + +He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, +suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down +and snatched it off. + +“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly. + +“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.” + +“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you +keep it, don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again +like a sensible man.” + +The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How +do you do it?” he inquired. + +“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the +sergeant-major, “but I warn you of the consequences.” + +“Sounds like the _Arabian Nights_,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and +began to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs +of hands for me?” + +Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst +into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, +caught him by the arm. + +“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.” + +Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned +his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was +partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an +enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldier’s adventures +in India. + +“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he +has been telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their +guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make +much out of it.” + +“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White, +regarding her husband closely. + +“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made +him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.” + +“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be +rich, and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin +with; then you can’t be henpecked.” + +He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed +with an antimacassar. + +Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t +know what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems +to me I’ve got all I want.” + +“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?” +said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two +hundred pounds, then; that’ll just do it.” + +His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the +talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at +his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords. + +“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly. + +A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a +shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him. + +“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay +on the floor. + +“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.” + +“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and +placed it on the table, “and I bet I never shall.” + +“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him +anxiously. + +He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it +gave me a shock all the same.” + +They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. +Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started +nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual +and depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old +couple rose to retire for the night. + +“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of +your bed,” said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something +horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket +your ill-gotten gains.” + +He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing +faces in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed +at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, +he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw +over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s paw, and with a little shiver he +wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed. + +II + +In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over +the breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of +prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the +previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the +sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its +virtues. + +“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea +of our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these +days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, +father?” + +“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert. + +“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that +you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.” + +“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as +he rose from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean, +avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you.” + +His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the +road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the +expense of her husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her +from scurrying to the door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from +referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous +habits when she found that the post brought a tailor’s bill. + +“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he +comes home,” she said, as they sat at dinner. + +“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for +all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.” + +“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly. + +“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I +had just—- What’s the matter?” + +His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a +man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, +appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental +connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger +was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he +paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood +with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open +and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands +behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put +that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair. + +She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He +gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the +old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s +coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then +waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his +business, but he was at first strangely silent. + +“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece +of cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Muggins.’” + +The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked, +breathlessly. “Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is +it?” + +Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit +down, and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m +sure, sir;” and he eyed the other wistfully. + +“I’m sorry—” began the visitor. + +“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly. + +The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is +not in any pain.” + +“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for +that! Thank—” + +She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned +upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s +averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted +husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long +silence. + +“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low +voice. + +“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, +“yes.” + +He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand +between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old +courting-days nearly forty years before. + +“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the +visitor. “It is hard.” + +The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm +wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great +loss,” he said, without looking round. “I beg that you will understand +I am only their servant and merely obeying orders.” + +There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring, +and her breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his +friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action. + +“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,” +continued the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in +consideration of your son’s services, they wish to present you with a +certain sum as compensation.” + +Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a +look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How +much?” + +“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer. + +Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out +his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the +floor. + +III + +In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried +their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It +was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and +remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to +happen —something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for +old hearts to bear. + +But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the +hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes +they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, +and their days were long to weariness. + +It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the +night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in +darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He +raised himself in bed and listened. + +“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.” + +“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh. + +The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his +eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden +wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start. + +“_The paw!_” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!” + +He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?” + +She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said, +quietly. “You’ve not destroyed it?” + +“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?” + +She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek. + +“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I +think of it before? Why didn’t _you_ think of it?” + +“Think of what?” he questioned. + +“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.” + +“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely. + +“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it +quickly, and wish our boy alive again.” + +The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. +“Good God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast. + +“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!” + +Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he +said, unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.” + +“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why +not the second?” + +“A coincidence,” stammered the old man. + +“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement. + +The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been +dead ten days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could +only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to +see then, how now?” + +“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. +“Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?” + +He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then +to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear +that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he +could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as +he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with +sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until +he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his +hand. + +Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was +white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look +upon it. He was afraid of her. + +“_Wish!_” she cried, in a strong voice. + +“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered. + +“_Wish!_” repeated his wife. + +He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.” + +The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he +sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked +to the window and raised the blind. + +He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the +figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, +which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing +pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker +larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable +sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, +and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and +apathetically beside him. + +Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. +A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. +The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up +his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went +downstairs for a candle. + +At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike +another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be +scarcely audible, sounded on the front door. + +The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood +motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he +turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind +him. A third knock sounded through the house. + +[Illustration: “What’s that?” cried the old woman.] + +“_What’s that?_” cried the old woman, starting up. + +“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the +stairs.” + +His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the +house. + +“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!” + +She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her +by the arm, held her tightly. + +“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely. + +“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I +forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I +must open the door.” + +“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling. + +“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m +coming, Herbert; I’m coming.” + +There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden +wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the +landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He +heard the chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and +stiffly from the socket. Then the old woman’s voice, strained and +panting. + +“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.” + +But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor +in search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside +got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, +and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the +passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came +slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkey’s paw, and +frantically breathed his third and last wish. + +The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in +the house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold +wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment +and misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and +then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a +quiet and deserted road. + + + + +BILL’S PAPER CHASE + + +Sailormen ’ave their faults, said the night watchman, frankly. I’m not +denying of it. I used to ’ave myself when I was at sea, but being close +with their money is a fault as can seldom be brought ag’in ’em. + +I saved some money once—two golden sovereigns, owing to a ’ole in my +pocket. Before I got another ship I slept two nights on a doorstep and +’ad nothing to eat, and I found them two sovereigns in the lining o’ my +coat when I was over two thousand miles away from the nearest pub. + +I on’y knew one miser all the years I was at sea. Thomas Geary ’is name +was, and we was shipmates aboard the barque _Grenada_, homeward bound +from Sydney to London. + +Thomas was a man that was getting into years; sixty, I think ’e was, +and old enough to know better. ’E’d been saving ’ard for over forty +years, and as near as we could make out ’e was worth a matter o’ six +’undered pounds. He used to be fond o’ talking about it, and letting us +know how much better off ’e was than any of the rest of us. + +We was about a month out from Sydney when old Thomas took sick. Bill +Hicks said that it was owing to a ha’penny he couldn’t account for; but +Walter Jones, whose family was always ill, and thought ’e knew a lot +about it, said that ’e knew wot it was, but ’e couldn’t remember the +name of it, and that when we got to London and Thomas saw a doctor, we +should see as ’ow ’e was right. + +Whatever it was the old man got worse and worse. The skipper came down +and gave ’im some physic and looked at ’is tongue, and then ’e looked +at our tongues to see wot the difference was. Then ’e left the cook in +charge of ’im and went off. + +The next day Thomas was worse, and it was soon clear to everybody but +’im that ’e was slipping ’is cable. He wouldn’t believe it at first, +though the cook told ’im, Bill Hicks told him, and Walter Jones ’ad a +grandfather that went off in just the same way. + +“I’m not going to die,” says Thomas “How can I die and leave all that +money?” + +“It’ll be good for your relations, Thomas,” says Walter Jones. + +“I ain’t got any,” says the old man. + +“Well, your friends, then, Thomas,” says Walter, soft-like. + +“Ain’t got any,” says the old man ag’in. + +“Yes, you ’ave, Thomas,” says Walter, with a kind smile; “I could tell +you one you’ve got.” + +Thomas shut his eyes at ’im and began to talk pitiful about ’is money +and the ’ard work ’e’d ’ad saving of it. And by-and-by ’e got worse, +and didn’t reckernise us, but thought we was a pack o’ greedy, drunken +sailormen. He thought Walter Jones was a shark, and told ’im so, and, +try all ’e could, Walter couldn’t persuade ’im different. + +He died the day arter. In the morning ’e was whimpering about ’is money +ag’in, and angry with Bill when ’e reminded ’im that ’e couldn’t take +it with ’im, and ’e made Bill promise that ’e should be buried just as +’e was. Bill tucked him up arter that, and when ’e felt a canvas belt +tied round the old man’s waist ’e began to see wot ’e was driving at. + +The weather was dirty that day and there was a bit o’ sea running, +consequently all ’ands was on deck, and a boy about sixteen wot used to +’elp the steward down aft was lookin’ arter Thomas. Me and Bill just +run down to give a look at the old man in time. + +“I _am_ going to take it with me, Bill,” says the old man. + +“That’s right,” says Bill. + +“My mind’s—easy now,” says Thomas. “I gave it to Jimmy—to—to—throw +overboard for me.” + +“_Wot?_” says Bill, staring. + +“That’s right, Bill,” says the boy. “He told me to. It was a little +packet o’ banknotes. He gave me tuppence for doing it.” + +Old Thomas seemed to be listening. ’Is eyes was open, and ’e looked +artful at Bill to think what a clever thing ’e’d done. + +“Nobody’s goin’-to spend-_my_ money,” ’e says. “Nobody’s——” + +We drew back from ’is bunk and stood staring at ’im. Then Bill turned +to the boy. + +“Go and tell the skipper ’e’s gone,” ’e says, “and mind, for your own +sake, don’t tell the skipper or anybody else that you’ve thrown all +that money overboard.” + +“Why not?” says Jimmy. + +“Becos you’ll be locked up for it,” says Bill; “you’d no business to do +it. You’ve been and broke the law. It ought to ha’ been left to +somebody.” + +Jimmy looked scared, and arter ’e was gone I turned to Bill, and I +looks at ’im and I says “What’s the little game, Bill?” + +“_Game?_” said Bill, snorting at me. “I don’t want the pore boy to get +into trouble, do I? Pore little chap. You was young yourself once.” + +“Yes,” I says; “but I’m a bit older now, Bill, and unless you tell me +what your little game is, I shall tell the skipper myself, and the +chaps too. Pore old Thomas told ’im to do it, so where’s the boy to +blame?” + +“Do you think Jimmy _did?_” says Bill, screwing up his nose at me. +“That little varmint is walking about worth six ’undered quid. Now you +keep your mouth shut and I’ll make it worth your while.” + +Then I see Bill’s game. “All right, I’ll keep quiet for the sake of my +half,” I says, looking at ’im. + +I thought he’d ha’ choked, and the langwidge ’e see fit to use was +a’most as much as I could answer. + +“Very well, then,” ’e says, at last, “halves it is. It ain’t robbery +becos it belongs to nobody, and it ain’t the boy’s becos ’e was told to +throw it overboard.” + +They buried pore old Thomas next morning, and arter it was all over +Bill put ’is ’and on the boy’s shoulder as they walked for’ard and ’e +says, “Poor old Thomas ’as gone to look for ’is money,” he says; +“wonder whether ’e’ll find it! Was it a big bundle, Jimmy?” + +“No,” says the boy, shaking ’is ’ead. “They was six ’undered pound +notes and two sovereigns, and I wrapped the sovereigns up in the notes +to make ’em sink. Fancy throwing money away like that, Bill: seems a +sin, don’t it?” + +Bill didn’t answer ’im, and that afternoon the other chaps below being +asleep we searched ’is bunk through and through without any luck, and +at last Bill sat down and swore ’e must ha’ got it about ’im. + +We waited till night, and when everybody was snoring ’ard we went over +to the boy’s bunk and went all through ’is pockets and felt the +linings, and then we went back to our side and Bill said wot ’e thought +about Jimmy in whispers. + +“He must ha’ got it tied round ’is waist next to ’is skin, like Thomas +’ad,” I says. + +We stood there in the dark whispering, and then Bill couldn’t stand it +any longer, and ’e went over on tiptoe to the bunk ag’in. He was +tremblin’ with excitement and I wasn’t much better, when all of a +sudden the cook sat up in ’is bunk with a dreadful laughing scream and +called out that somebody was ticklin’ ’im. + +I got into my bunk and Bill got into ’is, and we lay there listening +while the cook, who was a terrible ticklish man, leaned out of ’is bunk +and said wot ’e’d do if it ’appened ag’in. + +“Go to sleep,” says Walter Jones; “you’re dreamin’. Who d’you think +would want to tickle you?” + +“I tell you,” says the cook, “somebody come over and tickled me with a +’and the size of a leg o’ mutton. I feel creepy all over.” + +Bill gave it up for that night, but the next day ’e pretended to think +Jimmy was gettin’ fat an’ ’e caught ’old of ’im and prodded ’im all +over. He thought ’e felt something round ’is waist, but ’e couldn’t be +sure, and Jimmy made such a noise that the other chaps interfered and +told Bill to leave ’im alone. For a whole week we tried to find that +money, and couldn’t, and Bill said it was a suspicious thing that Jimmy +kept aft a good deal more than ’e used to, and ’e got an idea that the +boy might ha’ ’idden it somewhere there. At the end of that time, +’owever, owing to our being short-’anded, Jimmy was sent for’ard to +work as ordinary seaman, and it began to be quite noticeable the way ’e +avoided Bill. + +At last one day we got ’im alone down the fo’c’sle, and Bill put ’is +arm round ’im and got im on the locker and asked ’im straight out where +the money was. + +“Why, I chucked it overboard,” he says. “I told you so afore. What a +memory you’ve got, Bill!” + +Bill picked ’im up and laid ’im on the locker, and we searched ’im +thoroughly. We even took ’is boots off, and then we ’ad another look in +’is bunk while ’e was putting ’em on ag’in. + +“If you’re innercent,” says Bill, “why don’t you call out?—eh?” + +“Because you told me not to say anything about it, Bill,” says the boy. +“But I will next time. Loud, I will.” + +“Look ’ere,” says Bill, “you tell us where it is, and the three of +us’ll go shares in it. That’ll be two ’undered pounds each, and we’ll +tell you ’ow to get yours changed without getting caught. We’re +cleverer than you are, you know.” + +“I know that, Bill,” says the boy; “but it’s no good me telling you +lies. I chucked it overboard.” + +“Very good, then,” says Bill, getting up. “I’m going to tell the +skipper.” + +“Tell ’im,” says Jimmy. “I don’t care.” + +“Then you’ll be searched _arter you’ve stepped ashore_,” says Bill, +“and you won’t be allowed on the ship ag’in. You’ll lose it all by +being greedy, whereas if you go shares with us you’ll ’ave two ’undered +pounds.” + +I could see as ’ow the boy ’adn’t thought o’ that, and try as ’e would +’e couldn’t ’ide ’is feelin’s. He called Bill a red-nosed shark, and ’e +called me somethin’ I’ve forgotten now. + +“Think it over,” says Bill; “mind, you’ll be collared as soon as you’ve +left the gangway and searched by the police.” + +“And will they tickle the cook too, I wonder?” says Jimmy, savagely. + +“And if they find it you’ll go to prison,” says Bill, giving ’im a +clump o’ the side o’ the ’ead, “and you won’t like that, I can tell +you.” + +“Why, ain’t it nice, Bill?” says Jimmy, holding ’is ear. + +Bill looked at ’im and then ’e steps to the ladder. “I’m not going to +talk to you any more, my lad,” ’e says. “I’m going to tell the +skipper.” + +He went up slowly, and just as ’e reached the deck Jimmy started up and +called ’im. Bill pretended not to ’ear, and the boy ran up on deck and +follered ’im; and arter a little while they both came down again +together. + +“Did you wish to speak to me, my lad?” says Bill, ’olding ’is ’ead up. + +“Yes,” says the boy, fiddling with ’is fingers; “if you keep your ugly +mouth shut, we’ll go shares.” + +“Ho!” says Bill, “I thought you throwed it overboard!” + +“I thought so, too, Bill,” says Jimmy, very softly, “and when I came +below ag’in I found it in my trousers pocket.” + +“Where is it now?” says Bill. + +“Never mind where it is,” says the boy; “you couldn’t get it if I was +to tell you. It’ll take me all my time to do it myself.” + +“Where is it?” says Bill, ag’in. “I’m goin’ to take care of it. I won’t +trust you.” + +“And I can’t trust you,” says Jimmy. + +“If you don’t tell me where it is this minute,” says Bill, moving to +the ladder ag’in, “I’m off to tell the skipper. I want it in my ’ands, +or at any rate my share of it. Why not share it out now?” + +“Because I ’aven’t got it,” says Jimmy, stamping ’is foot, “that’s why, +and it’s all your silly fault. Arter you came pawing through my pockets +when you thought I was asleep I got frightened and ’id it.” + +“Where?” says Bill. + +“In the second mate’s mattress,” says Jimmy. “I was tidying up down aft +and I found a ’ole in the underneath side of ’is mattress and I shoved +it in there, and poked it in with a bit o’ stick.” + +“And ’ow are you going to get it?” says Bill, scratching ’is ’ead. + +“That’s wot I don’t know, seeing that I’m not allowed aft now,” says +Jimmy. “One of us’ll ’ave to make a dash for it when we get to London. +And mind if there’s any ’ankypanky on your part, Bill, I’ll give the +show away myself.” + +The cook came down just then and we ’ad to leave off talking, and I +could see that Bill was so pleased at finding that the money ’adn’t +been thrown overboard that ’e was losing sight o’ the difficulty o’ +getting at it. In a day or two, ’owever, ’e see it as plain as me and +Jimmy did, and, as time went by, he got desprit, and frightened us both +by ’anging about aft every chance ’e got. + +The companion-way faced the wheel, and there was about as much chance +o’ getting down there without being seen as there would be o’ taking a +man’s false teeth out of ’is mouth without ’is knowing it. Jimmy went +down one day while Bill was at the wheel to look for ’is knife, wot ’e +thought ’e’d left down there, and ’ed ’ardly got down afore Bill saw +’im come up ag’in, ’olding on to the top of a mop which the steward was +using. + +We couldn’t figure it out nohow, and to think o’ the second mate, a +little man with a large fam’ly, who never ’ad a penny in ’is pocket, +sleeping every night on a six ’undered pound mattress, sent us pretty +near crazy. We used to talk it over whenever we got a chance, and Bill +and Jimmy could scarcely be civil to each other. The boy said it was +Bill’s fault, and ’e said it was the boy’s. + +“The on’y thing I can see,” says the boy, one day, “is for Bill to ’ave +a touch of sunstroke as ’e’s leaving the wheel one day, tumble +’ead-first down the companion-way, and injure ’isself so severely that +’e can’t be moved. Then they’ll put ’im in a cabin down aft, and p’raps +I’ll ’ave to go and nurse ’im. Anyway, _he’ll_ be down there.” + +“It’s a very good idea, Bill,” I says. + +“Ho,” says Bill, looking at me as if ’e would eat me. “Why don’t you do +it, then?” + +“I’d sooner you did it, Bill,” says the boy; “still, I don’t mind which +it is. Why not toss up for it?” + +“Get away,” says Bill. “Get away afore I do something you won’t like, +you blood-thirsty little murderer.” + +“I’ve got a plan myself,” he says, in a low voice, after the boy ’ad +’opped off, “and if I can’t think of nothing better I’ll try it, and +mind, not a word to the boy.” + +He didn’t think o’ nothing better, and one night just as we was making +the Channel ’e tried ’is plan. He was in the second mate’s watch, and +by-and-by ’e leans over the wheel and says to ’im in a low voice, “This +is my last v’y’ge, sir.” + +“Oh,” says the second mate, who was a man as didn’t mind talking to a +man before the mast. “How’s that?” + +“I’ve got a berth ashore, sir,” says Bill, “and I wanted to ask a +favour, sir.” + +The second mate growled and walked off a pace or two. + +“I’ve never been so ’appy as I’ve been on this ship,” says Bill; “none +of us ’ave. We was saying so the other night, and everybody agreed as +it was owing to you, sir, and your kindness to all of us.” + +The second mate coughed, but Bill could see as ’e was a bit pleased. + +“The feeling came over me,” says Bill, “that when I leave the sea for +good I’d like to ’ave something o’ yours to remember you by, sir. And +it seemed to me that if I ’ad your—mattress I should think of you ev’ry +night o’ my life.” + +“My _wot?_” says the second mate, staring at ’im. + +“Your mattress, sir,” says Bill. “If I might make so bold as to offer a +pound for it, sir. I want something wot’s been used by you, and I’ve +got a fancy for that as a keepsake.” + +The second mate shook ’is ’ead. “I’m sorry, Bill,” ’e says, gently, +“but I couldn’t let it go at that.” + +“I’d sooner pay thirty shillin’s than not ’ave it, sir,” says Bill, +’umbly. + +“I gave a lot of money for that mattress,” says the mate, ag’in. “I +forgit ’ow much, but a lot. You don’t know ’ow valuable that mattress +is.” + +“I know it’s a good one, sir, else you wouldn’t ’ave it,” says Bill. +“Would a couple o’ pounds buy it, sir?” + +The second mate hum’d and ha’d, but Bill was afeard to go any ’igher. +So far as ’e could make out from Jimmy, the mattress was worth about +eighteen pence—to anybody who wasn’t pertiklar. + +“I’ve slept on that mattress for years,” says the second mate, looking +at ’im from the corner of ’is eye. “I don’t believe I could sleep on +another. Still, to oblige you, Bill, you shall ’ave it at that if you +don’t want it till we go ashore?” + +“Thankee, sir,” says Bill, ’ardly able to keep from dancing, “and I’ll +’and over the two pounds when we’re paid off. I shall keep it all my +life, sir, in memory of you and your kindness.” + +“And mind you keep quiet about it,” says the second mate, who didn’t +want the skipper to know wot ’e’d been doing, “because I don’t want to +be bothered by other men wanting to buy things as keepsakes.” + +Bill promised ’im like a shot, and when ’e told me about it ’e was +nearly crying with joy. + +“And mind,” ’e says, “I’ve bought that mattress, bought it as it +stands, and it’s got nothing to do with Jimmy. We’ll each pay a pound +and halve wot’s in it.” + +He persuaded me at last, but that boy watched us like a cat watching a +couple of canaries, and I could see we should ’ave all we could do to +deceive ’_im_. He seemed more suspicious o’ Bill than me, and ’e kep’ +worrying us nearly every day to know what we were going to do. + +We beat about in the channel with a strong ’ead-wind for four days, and +then a tug picked us up and towed us to London. + +The excitement of that last little bit was ’orrible. Fust of all we ’ad +got to get the mattress, and then in some way we ’ad got to get rid o’ +Jimmy. Bill’s idea was for me to take ’im ashore with me and tell ’im +that Bill would join us arterwards, and then lose ’im; but I said that +till I’d got my share I couldn’t bear to lose sight o’ Bill’s honest +face for ’alf a second. + +And, besides, Jimmy wouldn’t ’ave gone. + +All the way up the river ’e stuck to Bill, and kept asking ’im wot we +were to do. ’E was ’alf crying, and so excited that Bill was afraid the +other chaps would notice it. + +We got to our berth in the East India Docks at last, and arter we were +made fast we went below to ’ave a wash and change into our shoregoing +togs. Jimmy watched us all the time, and then ’e comes up to Bill +biting ’is nails, and says: + +“How’s it to be done, Bill?” + +“Hang about arter the rest ’ave gone ashore, and trust to luck,” says +Bill, looking at me. “We’ll see ’ow the land lays when we draw our +advance.” + +We went down aft to draw ten shillings each to go ashore with. Bill and +me got ours fust, and then the second mate who ’ad tipped ’im the wink +followed us out unconcerned-like and ’anded Bill the mattress rolled up +in a sack. + +“’Ere you are, Bill,” ’e says. + +“Much obliged, sir,” says Bill, and ’is ’ands trembled so as ’e could +’ardly ’old it, and ’e made to go off afore Jimmy come on deck. + +Then that fool of a mate kept us there while ’e made a little speech. +Twice Bill made to go off, but ’e put ’is ’and on ’is arm and kept ’im +there while ’e told ’im ’ow he’d always tried to be liked by the men, +and ’ad generally succeeded, and in the middle of it up popped Master +Jimmy. + +He gave a start as he saw the bag, and ’is eyes opened wide, and then +as we walked forward ’e put ’is arm through Bill’s and called ’im all +the names ’e could think of. + +“You’d steal the milk out of a cat’s saucer,” ’e says; “but mind, you +don’t leave this ship till I’ve got my share.” + +“I meant it for a pleasant surprise for you, Jimmy,” says Bill, trying +to smile. + +“I don’t like your surprises, Bill, so I don’t deceive you,” says the +boy. “Where are you going to open it?” + +“I was thinking of opening it in my bunk,” says Bill. “The perlice +might want to examine it if we took it through the dock. Come on, +Jimmy, old man.” + +“Yes; all right,” says the boy, nodding ’is ’ead at ’im. “I’ll stay up +’ere. You might forget yourself, Bill, if I trusted myself down there +with you alone. You can throw my share up to me, and then you’ll leave +the ship afore I do. See?” + +“Go to blazes,” says Bill; and then, seeing that the last chance ’ad +gone, we went below, and ’e chucked the bundle in ’is bunk. There was +only one chap down there, and arter spending best part o’ ten minutes +doing ’is hair ’e nodded to us and went off. + +Half a minute later Bill cut open the mattress and began to search +through the stuffing, while I struck matches and watched ’im. It wasn’t +a big mattress and there wasn’t much stuffing, but we couldn’t seem to +see that money. Bill went all over it ag’in and ag’in, and then ’e +stood up and looked at me and caught ’is breath painful. + +“Do you think the mate found it?” ’e says, in a ’usky voice. + +We went through it ag’in, and then Bill went half-way up the fo’c’s’le +ladder and called softly for Jimmy. He called three times, and then, +with a sinking sensation in ’is stummick, ’e went up on deck and I +follered ’im. The boy was nowhere to be seen. All we saw was the ship’s +cat ’aving a wash and brush-up afore going ashore, and the skipper +standing aft talking to the owner. + +We never saw that boy ag’in. He never turned up for ’is box, and ’e +didn’t show up to draw ’is pay. Everybody else was there, of course, +and arter I’d got mine and come outside I see pore Bill with ’is back +up ag’in a wall, staring ’ard at the second mate, who was looking at +’im with a kind smile, and asking ’im ’ow he’d slept. The last thing I +saw of Bill, the pore chap ’ad got ’is ’ands in ’is trousers pockets, +and was trying ’is hardest to smile back. + + + + +THE WELL + +I + +Two men stood in the billiard-room of an old country house, talking. +Play, which had been of a half-hearted nature, was over, and they sat +at the open window, looking out over the park stretching away beneath +them, conversing idly. + +“Your time’s nearly up, Jem,” said one at length, “this time six weeks +you’ll be yawning out the honeymoon and cursing the man—woman I mean— +who invented them.” + +Jem Benson stretched his long limbs in the chair and grunted in +dissent. + +“I’ve never understood it,” continued Wilfred Carr, yawning. “It’s not +in my line at all; I never had enough money for my own wants, let alone +for two. Perhaps if I were as rich as you or Crœsus I might regard it +differently.” + +There was just sufficient meaning in the latter part of the remark for +his cousin to forbear to reply to it. He continued to gaze out of the +window and to smoke slowly. + +“Not being as rich as Crœsus—or you,” resumed Carr, regarding him from +beneath lowered lids, “I paddle my own canoe down the stream of Time, +and, tying it to my friends’ door-posts, go in to eat their dinners.” + +“Quite Venetian,” said Jem Benson, still looking out of the window. +“It’s not a bad thing for you, Wilfred, that you have the doorposts and +dinners—and friends.” + +Carr grunted in his turn. “Seriously though, Jem,” he said, slowly, +“you’re a lucky fellow, a very lucky fellow. If there is a better girl +above ground than Olive, I should like to see her.” + +“Yes,” said the other, quietly. + +“She’s such an exceptional girl,” continued Carr, staring out of the +window. “She’s so good and gentle. She thinks you are a bundle of all +the virtues.” + +He laughed frankly and joyously, but the other man did not join him. +“Strong sense—of right and wrong, though,” continued Carr, musingly. +“Do you know, I believe that if she found out that you were not—-” + +“Not what?” demanded Benson, turning upon him fiercely, “Not what?” + +“Everything that you are,” returned his cousin, with a grin that belied +his words, “I believe she’d drop you.” + +“Talk about something else,” said Benson, slowly; “your pleasantries +are not always in the best taste.” + +Wilfred Carr rose and taking a cue from the rack, bent over the board +and practiced one or two favourite shots. “The only other subject I can +talk about just at present is my own financial affairs,” he said +slowly, as he walked round the table. + +“Talk about something else,” said Benson again, bluntly. + +“And the two things are connected,” said Carr, and dropping his cue he +half sat on the table and eyed his cousin. + +There was a long silence. Benson pitched the end of his cigar out of +the window, and leaning back closed his eyes. + +“Do you follow me?” inquired Carr at length. + +Benson opened his eyes and nodded at the window. + +“Do you want to follow my cigar?” he demanded. + +“I should prefer to depart by the usual way for your sake,” returned +the other, unabashed. “If I left by the window all sorts of questions +would be asked, and you know what a talkative chap I am.” + +“So long as you don’t talk about my affairs,” returned the other, +restraining himself by an obvious effort, “you can talk yourself +hoarse.” + +“I’m in a mess,” said Carr, slowly, “a devil of a mess. If I don’t +raise fifteen hundred by this day fortnight, I may be getting my board +and lodging free.” + +“Would that be any change?” questioned Benson. + +“The quality would,” retorted the other. “The address also would not be +good. Seriously, Jem, will you let me have the fifteen hundred?” + +“No,” said the other, simply. + +Carr went white. “It’s to save me from ruin,” he said, thickly. + +“I’ve helped you till I’m tired,” said Benson, turning and regarding +him, “and it is all to no good. If you’ve got into a mess, get out of +it. You should not be so fond of giving autographs away.” + +“It’s foolish, I admit,” said Carr, deliberately. “I won’t do so any +more. By the way, I’ve got some to sell. You needn’t sneer. They’re not +my own.” + +“Whose are they?” inquired the other. + +“Yours.” + +Benson got up from his chair and crossed over to him. “What is this?” +he asked, quietly. “Blackmail?” + +“Call it what you like,” said Carr. “I’ve got some letters for sale, +price fifteen hundred. And I know a man who would buy them at that +price for the mere chance of getting Olive from you. I’ll give you +first offer.” + +“If you have got any letters bearing my signature, you will be good +enough to give them to me,” said Benson, very slowly. + +“They’re mine,” said Carr, lightly; “given to me by the lady you wrote +them to. I must say that they are not all in the best possible taste.” + +His cousin reached forward suddenly, and catching him by the collar of +his coat pinned him down on the table. + +“Give me those letters,” he breathed, sticking his face close to +Carr’s. + +“They’re not here,” said Carr, struggling. “I’m not a fool. Let me go, +or I’ll raise the price.” + +The other man raised him from the table in his powerful hands, +apparently with the intention of dashing his head against it. Then +suddenly his hold relaxed as an astonished-looking maid-servant entered +the room with letters. Carr sat up hastily. + +“That’s how it was done,” said Benson, for the girl’s benefit as he +took the letters. + +“I don’t wonder at the other man making him pay for it, then,” said +Carr, blandly. + +“You will give me those letters?” said Benson, suggestively, as the +girl left the room. + +“At the price I mentioned, yes,” said Carr; “but so sure as I am a +living man, if you lay your clumsy hands on me again, I’ll double it. +Now, I’ll leave you for a time while you think it over.” + +He took a cigar from the box and lighting it carefully quitted the +room. His cousin waited until the door had closed behind him, and then +turning to the window sat there in a fit of fury as silent as it was +terrible. + +The air was fresh and sweet from the park, heavy with the scent of +new-mown grass. The fragrance of a cigar was now added to it, and +glancing out he saw his cousin pacing slowly by. He rose and went to +the door, and then, apparently altering his mind, he returned to the +window and watched the figure of his cousin as it moved slowly away +into the moonlight. Then he rose again, and, for a long time, the room +was empty. + + +It was empty when Mrs. Benson came in some time later to say good-night +to her son on her way to bed. She walked slowly round the table, and +pausing at the window gazed from it in idle thought, until she saw the +figure of her son advancing with rapid strides toward the house. He +looked up at the window. + +“Good-night,” said she. + +“Good-night,” said Benson, in a deep voice. + +“Where is Wilfred?” + +“Oh, he has gone,” said Benson. + +“Gone?” + +“We had a few words; he was wanting money again, and I gave him a piece +of my mind. I don’t think we shall see him again.” + +“Poor Wilfred!” sighed Mrs. Benson. “He is always in trouble of some +sort. I hope that you were not too hard upon him.” + +“No more than he deserved,” said her son, sternly. “Good night.” + +II + +The well, which had long ago fallen into disuse, was almost hidden by +the thick tangle of undergrowth which ran riot at that corner of the +old park. It was partly covered by the shrunken half of a lid, above +which a rusty windlass creaked in company with the music of the pines +when the wind blew strongly. The full light of the sun never reached +it, and the ground surrounding it was moist and green when other parts +of the park were gaping with the heat. + +Two people walking slowly round the park in the fragrant stillness of a +summer evening strayed in the direction of the well. + +“No use going through this wilderness, Olive,” said Benson, pausing on +the outskirts of the pines and eyeing with some disfavour the gloom +beyond. + +“Best part of the park,” said the girl briskly; “you know it’s my +favourite spot.” + +“I know you’re very fond of sitting on the coping,” said the man +slowly, “and I wish you wouldn’t. One day you will lean back too far +and fall in.” + +“And make the acquaintance of Truth,” said Olive lightly. “Come along.” + +She ran from him and was lost in the shadow of the pines, the bracken +crackling beneath her feet as she ran. Her companion followed slowly, +and emerging from the gloom saw her poised daintily on the edge of the +well with her feet hidden in the rank grass and nettles which +surrounded it. She motioned her companion to take a seat by her side, +and smiled softly as she felt a strong arm passed about her waist. + +“I like this place,” said she, breaking a long silence, “it is so +dismal —so uncanny. Do you know I wouldn’t dare to sit here alone, Jem. +I should imagine that all sorts of dreadful things were hidden behind +the bushes and trees, waiting to spring out on me. Ugh!” + +“You’d better let me take you in,” said her companion tenderly; “the +well isn’t always wholesome, especially in the hot weather. + +“Let’s make a move.” + +The girl gave an obstinate little shake, and settled herself more +securely on her seat. + +“Smoke your cigar in peace,” she said quietly. “I am settled here for a +quiet talk. Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?” + +“Nothing.” + +“Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn’t it?” she continued. “Another +scrape, I suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain; +‘Dear Jem, help me out.’” + +Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding his +cigar between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves. + +“I wonder what he would have done without you,” said the girl, pressing +his arm affectionately. “Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we are +married, Jem, I shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. He +is very wild, but he has his good points, poor fellow.” + +“I never saw them,” said Benson, with startling bitterness. “God knows +I never saw them.” + +“He is nobody’s enemy but his own,” said the girl, startled by this +outburst. + +“You don’t know much about him,” said the other, sharply. “He was not +above blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself a +benefit. A loafer, a cur, and a liar!” + +The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without +a word, and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and +the beams of the moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them +with a silver network. Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly +with a sharp cry she sprang to her feet. + +“What was that?” she cried breathlessly. + +“What was what?” demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast +by the arm. + +She caught her breath and tried to laugh. + +“You’re hurting me, Jem.” + +His hold relaxed. + +“What is the matter?” he asked gently. + +“What was it startled you?” + +“I was startled,” she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder. +“I suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but I +fancied that somebody behind us whispered ‘_Jem, help me out_.’” + +“Fancy,” repeated Benson, and his voice shook; “but these fancies are +not good for you. You—are frightened—at the dark and the gloom of these +trees. Let me take you back to the house.” + +“No, I’m not frightened,” said the girl, reseating herself. “I should +never be really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I’m +surprised at myself for being so silly.” + +The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or two +from the well, as though waiting for her to join him. + +“Come and sit down, sir,” cried Olive, patting the brickwork with her +small, white hand, “one would think that you did not like your +company.” + +He obeyed slowly and took a seat by her side, drawing so hard at his +cigar that the light of it shone upon his face at every breath. He +passed his arm, firm and rigid as steel, behind her, with his hand +resting on the brickwork beyond. + +“Are you warm enough?” he asked tenderly, as she made a little +movement. “Pretty fair,” she shivered; “one oughtn’t to be cold at this +time of the year, but there’s a cold, damp air comes up from the well.” + +As she spoke a faint splash sounded from the depths below, and for the +second time that evening, she sprang from the well with a little cry of +dismay. + +“What is it now?” he asked in a fearful voice. He stood by her side and +gazed at the well, as though half expecting to see the cause of her +alarm emerge from it. + +“Oh, my bracelet,” she cried in distress, “my poor mother’s bracelet. +I’ve dropped it down the well.” + +“Your bracelet!” repeated Benson, dully. “Your bracelet? The diamond +one?” + +“The one that was my mother’s,” said Olive. “Oh, we can get it back +surely. We must have the water drained off.” + +“Your bracelet!” repeated Benson, stupidly. + +“Jem,” said the girl in terrified tones, “dear Jem, what is the +matter?” + +For the man she loved was standing regarding her with horror. The moon +which touched it was not responsible for all the whiteness of the +distorted face, and she shrank back in fear to the edge of the well. He +saw her fear and by a mighty effort regained his composure and took her +hand. + +“Poor little girl,” he murmured, “you frightened me. I was not looking +when you cried, and I thought that you were slipping from my arms, +down—down—” + +His voice broke, and the girl throwing herself into his arms clung to +him convulsively. + +“There, there,” said Benson, fondly, “don’t cry, don’t cry.” + +“To-morrow,” said Olive, half-laughing, half-crying, “we will all come +round the well with hook and line and fish for it. It will be quite a +new sport.” + +“No, we must try some other way,” said Benson. “You shall have it +back.” + +“How?” asked the girl. + +“You shall see,” said Benson. “To-morrow morning at latest you shall +have it back. Till then promise me that you will not mention your loss +to anyone. Promise.” + +“I promise,” said Olive, wonderingly. “But why not?” + +“It is of great value, for one thing, and—But there—there are many +reasons. For one thing it is my duty to get it for you.” + +“Wouldn’t you like to jump down for it?” she asked mischievously. +“Listen.” + +She stooped for a stone and dropped it down. + +“Fancy being where that is now,” she said, peering into the blackness; +“fancy going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at the +slimy sides, with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to the +little patch of sky above.” + +“You had better come in,” said Benson, very quietly. “You are +developing a taste for the morbid and horrible.” + +The girl turned, and taking his arm walked slowly in the direction of +the house; Mrs. Benson, who was sitting in the porch, rose to receive +them. + +“You shouldn’t have kept her out so long,” she said chidingly. “Where +have you been?” + +“Sitting on the well,” said Olive, smiling, “discussing our future.” + +“I don’t believe that place is healthy,” said Mrs. Benson, +emphatically. “I really think it might be filled in, Jem.” + +“All right,” said her son, slowly. “Pity it wasn’t filled in long ago.” + +He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house with +Olive, and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deep +thought. After a time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which was +set apart for sporting requisites selected a sea fishing line and some +hooks and stole softly downstairs again. He walked swiftly across the +park in the direction of the well, turning before he entered the shadow +of the trees to look back at the lighted windows of the house. Then +having arranged his line he sat on the edge of the well and cautiously +lowered it. + +He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in a +startled fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering +at him from the belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line +until at length in pulling it up he heard a little metallic tinkle +against the side of the well. + +He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inch +by inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly, +and his eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catch +hanging to the hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in. +Then he saw that instead of the bracelet he had hooked a bunch of keys. + +With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, and +stood breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night. +He walked up and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he +came back to the well and resumed his task. + +For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In his +eagerness he forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fished +slowly and carefully. Twice the hook became entangled in something, and +was with difficulty released. It caught a third time, and all his +efforts failed’ to free it. Then he dropped the line down the well, and +with head bent walked toward the house. + +He went first to the stables at the rear, and then retiring to his room +for some time paced restlessly up and down. Then without removing his +clothes he flung himself upon the bed and fell into a troubled sleep. + +III + +Long before anybody else was astir he arose and stole softly +downstairs. The sunlight was stealing in at every crevice, and flashing +in long streaks across the darkened rooms. The dining-room into which +he looked struck chill and cheerless in the dark yellow light which +came through the lowered blinds. He remembered that it had the same +appearance when his father lay dead in the house; now, as then, +everything seemed ghastly and unreal; the very chairs standing as their +occupants had left them the night before seemed to be indulging in some +dark communication of ideas. + +Slowly and noiselessly he opened the hall door and passed into the +fragrant air beyond. The sun was shining on the drenched grass and +trees, and a slowly vanishing white mist rolled like smoke about the +grounds. For a moment he stood, breathing deeply the sweet air of the +morning, and then walked slowly in the direction of the stables. + +The rusty creaking of a pump-handle and a spatter of water upon the +red-tiled courtyard showed that somebody else was astir, and a few +steps farther he beheld a brawny, sandy-haired man gasping wildly under +severe self-infliction at the pump. + +“Everything ready, George?” he asked quietly. + +“Yes, sir,” said the man, straightening up suddenly and touching his +forehead. “Bob’s just finishing the arrangements inside. It’s a lovely +morning for a dip. The water in that well must be just icy.” + +“Be as quick as you can,” said Benson, impatiently. + +“Very good, sir,” said George, burnishing his face harshly with a very +small towel which had been hanging over the top of the pump. “Hurry up, +Bob.” + +In answer to his summons a man appeared at the door of the stable with +a coil of stout rope over his arm and a large metal candlestick in his +hand. + +“Just to try the air, sir,” said George, following his master’s glance, +“a well gets rather foul sometimes, but if a candle can live down it, a +man can.” + +His master nodded, and the man, hastily pulling up the neck of his +shirt and thrusting his arms into his coat, followed him as he led the +way slowly to the well. + +“Beg pardon, sir,” said George, drawing up to his side, “but you are +not looking over and above well this morning. If you’ll let me go down +I’d enjoy the bath.” + +“No, no,” said Benson, peremptorily. + +“You ain’t fit to go down, sir,” persisted his follower. “I’ve never +seen you look so before. Now if—” + +“Mind your business,” said his master curtly. + +George became silent and the three walked with swinging strides through +the long wet grass to the well. Bob flung the rope on the ground and at +a sign from his master handed him the candlestick. + +“Here’s the line for it, sir,” said Bob, fumbling in his pockets. + +Benson took it from him and slowly tied it to the candlestick. Then he +placed it on the edge of the well, and striking a match, lit the candle +and began slowly to lower it. + +“Hold hard, sir,” said George, quickly, laying his hand on his arm, +“you must tilt it or the string’ll burn through.” + +Even as he spoke the string parted and the candlestick fell into the +water below. + +Benson swore quietly. + +“I’ll soon get another,” said George, starting up. + +“Never mind, the well’s all right,” said Benson. + +“It won’t take a moment, sir,” said the other over his shoulder. + +“Are you master here, or am I?” said Benson hoarsely. + +George came back slowly, a glance at his master’s face stopping the +protest upon his tongue, and he stood by watching him sulkily as he sat +on the well and removed his outer garments. Both men watched him +curiously, as having completed his preparations he stood grim and +silent with his hands by his sides. + +“I wish you’d let me go, sir,” said George, plucking up courage to +address him. “You ain’t fit to go, you’ve got a chill or something. I +shouldn’t wonder it’s the typhoid. They’ve got it in the village bad.” + +For a moment Benson looked at him angrily, then his gaze softened. “Not +this time, George,” he said, quietly. He took the looped end of the +rope and placed it under his arms, and sitting down threw one leg over +the side of the well. + +“How are you going about it, sir?” queried George, laying hold of the +rope and signing to Bob to do the same. + +“I’ll call out when I reach the water,” said Benson; “then pay out +three yards more quickly so that I can get to the bottom.” + +“Very good, sir,” answered both. + +Their master threw the other leg over the coping and sat motionless. +His back was turned toward the men as he sat with head bent, looking +down the shaft. He sat for so long that George became uneasy. + +“All right, sir?” he inquired. + +“Yes,” said Benson, slowly. “If I tug at the rope, George, pull up at +once. Lower away.” + +The rope passed steadily through their hands until a hollow cry from +the darkness below and a faint splashing warned them that he had +reached the water. They gave him three yards more and stood with +relaxed grasp and strained ears, waiting. + +“He’s gone under,” said Bob in a low voice. + +The other nodded, and moistening his huge palms took a firmer grip of +the rope. + +Fully a minute passed, and the men began to exchange uneasy glances. +Then a sudden tremendous jerk followed by a series of feebler ones +nearly tore the rope from their grasp. + +“Pull!” shouted George, placing one foot on the side and hauling +desperately. “Pull! pull! He’s stuck fast; he’s not coming; PULL!” + +In response to their terrific exertions the rope came slowly in, inch +by inch, until at length a violent splashing was heard, and at the same +moment a scream of unutterable horror came echoing up the shaft. + +“What a weight he is!” panted Bob. “He’s stuck fast or something. Keep +still, sir; for heaven’s sake, keep still.” + +For the taut rope was being jerked violently by the struggles of the +weight at the end of it. Both men with grunts and sighs hauled it in +foot by foot. + +“All right, sir,” cried George, cheerfully. + +He had one foot against the well, and was pulling manfully; the burden +was nearing the top. A long pull and a strong pull, and the face of a +dead man with mud in the eyes and nostrils came peering over the edge. +Behind it was the ghastly face of his master; but this he saw too late, +for with a great cry he let go his hold of the rope and stepped back. +The suddenness overthrew his assistant, and the rope tore through his +hands. There was a frightful splash. + +“You fool!” stammered Bob, and ran to the well helplessly. + +“Run!” cried George. “Run for another line.” + +He bent over the coping and called eagerly down as his assistant sped +back to the stables shouting wildly. His voice re-echoed down the +shaft, but all else was silence. + + + + +CUPBOARD LOVE + + +In the comfortable living-room at Negget’s farm, half parlour and half +kitchen, three people sat at tea in the waning light of a November +afternoon. Conversation, which had been brisk, had languished somewhat, +owing to Mrs. Negget glancing at frequent intervals toward the door, +behind which she was convinced the servant was listening, and checking +the finest periods and the most startling suggestions with a warning +’_ssh!_ + +“Go on, uncle,” she said, after one of these interruptions. + +“I forget where I was,” said Mr. Martin Bodfish, shortly. + +“Under our bed,” Mr. Negget reminded him. + +“Yes, watching,” said Mrs. Negget, eagerly. + +It was an odd place for an ex-policeman, especially as a small legacy +added to his pension had considerably improved his social position, but +Mr. Bodfish had himself suggested it in the professional hope that the +person who had taken Mrs. Negget’s gold brooch might try for further +loot. He had, indeed, suggested baiting the dressing-table with the +farmer’s watch, an idea which Mr. Negget had promptly vetoed. + +“I can’t help thinking that Mrs. Pottle knows something about it,” said +Mrs. Negget, with an indignant glance at her husband. + +“Mrs. Pottle,” said the farmer, rising slowly and taking a seat on the +oak settle built in the fireplace, “has been away from the village for +near a fortnit.” + +“I didn’t say she took it,” snapped his wife. “I said I believe she +knows something about it, and so I do. She’s a horrid woman. Look at +the way she encouraged her girl Looey to run after that young traveller +from Smithson’s. The whole fact of the matter is, it isn’t your brooch, +so you don’t care.” + +“I said—” began Mr. Negget. + +“I know what you said,” retorted his wife, sharply, “and I wish you’d +be quiet and not interrupt uncle. Here’s my uncle been in the police +twenty-five years, and you won’t let him put a word in edgeways.’ + +“My way o’ looking at it,” said the ex-policeman, slowly, “is different +to that o’ the law; my idea is, an’ always has been, that everybody is +guilty until they’ve proved their innocence.” + +“It’s a wonderful thing to me,” said Mr. Negget in a low voice to his +pipe, “as they should come to a house with a retired policeman living +in it. Looks to me like somebody that ain’t got much respect for the +police.” + +The ex-policeman got up from the table, and taking a seat on the settle +opposite the speaker, slowly filled a long clay and took a spill from +the fireplace. His pipe lit, he turned to his niece, and slowly bade +her go over the account of her loss once more. + +“I missed it this morning,” said Mrs. Negget, rapidly, “at ten minutes +past twelve o’clock by the clock, and half-past five by my watch which +wants looking to. I’d just put the batch of bread into the oven, and +gone upstairs and opened the box that stands on my drawers to get a +lozenge, and I missed the brooch.” + +“Do you keep it in that box?” asked the ex-policeman, slowly. + +“Always,” replied his niece. “I at once came down stairs and told Emma +that the brooch had been stolen. I said that I named no names, and +didn’t wish to think bad of anybody, and that if I found the brooch +back in the box when I went up stairs again, I should forgive whoever +took it.” + +“And what did Emma say?” inquired Mr. Bodfish. + +“Emma said a lot o’ things,” replied Mrs. Negget, angrily. “I’m sure by +the lot she had to say you’d ha’ thought she was the missis and me the +servant. I gave her a month’s notice at once, and she went straight up +stairs and sat on her box and cried.” + +“Sat on her box?” repeated the ex-constable, impressively. “Oh!” + +“That’s what I thought,” said his niece, “but it wasn’t, because I got +her off at last and searched it through and through. I never saw +anything like her clothes in all my life. There was hardly a button or +a tape on; and as for her stockings—” + +“She don’t get much time,” said Mr. Negget, slowly. + +“That’s right; I thought you’d speak up for her,” cried his wife, +shrilly. + +“Look here—” began Mr. Negget, laying his pipe on the seat by his side +and rising slowly. + +“Keep to the case in hand,” said the ex-constable, waving him back to +his seat again. “Now, Lizzie.” + +“I searched her box through and through,” said his niece, “but it +wasn’t there; then I came down again and had a rare good cry all to +myself.” + +“That’s the best way for you to have it,” remarked Mr. Negget, +feelingly. + +Mrs. Negget’s uncle instinctively motioned his niece to silence, and +holding his chin in his hand, scowled frightfully in the intensity of +thought. + +“See a cloo?” inquired Mr. Negget, affably. + +“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, George,” said his wife, angrily; +“speaking to uncle when he’s looking like that.” + +Mr. Bodfish said nothing; it is doubtful whether he even heard these +remarks; but he drew a huge notebook from his pocket, and after vainly +trying to point his pencil by suction, took a knife from the table and +hastily sharpened it. + +“Was the brooch there last night?” he inquired. + +“It were,” said Mr. Negget, promptly. “Lizzie made me get up just as +the owd clock were striking twelve to get her a lozenge.” + +“It seems pretty certain that the brooch went since then,” mused Mr. +Bodfish. + +“It would seem like it to a plain man,” said Mr. Negget, guardedly. + +“I should like to see the box,” said Mr. Bodfish. + +Mrs. Negget went up and fetched it and stood eyeing him eagerly as he +raised the lid and inspected the contents. It contained only a few +lozenges and some bone studs. Mr. Negget helped himself to a lozenge, +and going back to his seat, breathed peppermint. + +“Properly speaking, that ought not to have been touched,” said the +ex-constable, regarding him with some severity. + +“Eh!” said the startled farmer, putting his finger to his lips. + +“Never mind,” said the other, shaking his head. “It’s too late now.” + +“He doesn’t care a bit,” said Mrs. Negget, somewhat sadly. “He used to +keep buttons in that box with the lozenges until one night he gave me +one by mistake. Yes, you may laugh—I’m glad you can laugh.” + +Mr. Negget, feeling that his mirth was certainly ill-timed, shook for +some time in a noble effort to control himself, and despairing at +length, went into the back place to recover. Sounds of blows indicative +of Emma slapping him on the back did not add to Mrs. Negget’s serenity. + +“The point is,” said the ex-constable, “could anybody have come into +your room while you was asleep and taken it?” + +“No,” said Mrs. Negget, decisively. “I’m a very poor sleeper, and I’d +have woke at once, but if a flock of elephants was to come in the room +they wouldn’t wake George. He’d sleep through anything.” + +“Except her feeling under my piller for her handkerchief,” corroborated +Mr. Negget, returning to the sitting-room. + +Mr. Bodfish waved them to silence, and again gave way to deep thought. +Three times he took up his pencil, and laying it down again, sat and +drummed on the table with his fingers. Then he arose, and with bent +head walked slowly round and round the room until he stumbled over a +stool. + +“Nobody came to the house this morning, I suppose?” he said at length, +resuming his seat. + +“Only Mrs. Driver,” said his niece. + +“What time did she come?” inquired Mr. Bodfish. + +“Here! look here!” interposed Mr. Negget. “I’ve known Mrs. Driver +thirty year a’most.” + +“What time did she come?” repeated the ex-constable, pitilessly. + +His niece shook her head. “It might have been eleven, and again it +might have been earlier,” she replied. “I was out when she came.” + +“Out!” almost shouted the other. + +Mrs. Negget nodded. + +“She was sitting in here when I came back.” + +Her uncle looked up and glanced at the door behind which a small +staircase led to the room above. + +“What was to prevent Mrs. Driver going up there while you were away?” +he demanded. + +“I shouldn’t like to think that of Mrs. Driver,” said his niece, +shaking her head; “but then in these days one never knows what might +happen. Never. I’ve given up thinking about it. However, when I came +back, Mrs. Driver was here, sitting in that very chair you are sitting +in now.” + +Mr. Bodfish pursed up his lips and made another note. Then he took a +spill from the fireplace, and lighting a candle, went slowly and +carefully up the stairs. He found nothing on them but two caked rims of +mud, and being too busy to notice Mr. Negget’s frantic signalling, +called his niece’s attention to them. + +“What do you think of that?” he demanded, triumphantly. + +“Somebody’s been up there,” said his niece. “It isn’t Emma, because she +hasn’t been outside the house all day; and it can’t be George, because +he promised me faithful he’d never go up there in his dirty boots.” + +Mr. Negget coughed, and approaching the stairs, gazed with the eye of a +stranger at the relics as Mr. Bodfish hotly rebuked a suggestion of his +niece’s to sweep them up. + +“Seems to me,” said the conscience-stricken Mr. Negget, feebly, “as +they’re rather large for a woman.” + +“Mud cakes,” said Mr. Bodfish, with his most professional manner; “a +small boot would pick up a lot this weather.” + +“So it would,” said Mr. Negget, and with brazen effrontery not only met +his wife’s eye without quailing, but actually glanced down at her +boots. + +Mr. Bodfish came back to his chair and ruminated. Then he looked up and +spoke. + +“It was missed this morning at ten minutes past twelve,” he said, +slowly; “it was there last night. At eleven o’clock you came in and +found Mrs. Driver sitting in that chair.” + +“No, the one you’re in,” interrupted his niece. + +“It don’t signify,” said her uncle. “Nobody else has been near the +place, and Emma’s box has been searched. + +“Thoroughly searched,” testified Mrs. Negget. + +“Now the point is, what did Mrs. Driver come for this morning?” resumed +the ex-constable. “Did she come—” + +He broke off and eyed with dignified surprise a fine piece of wireless +telegraphy between husband and wife. It appeared that Mr. Negget sent +off a humorous message with his left eye, the right being for some +reason closed, to which Mrs. Negget replied with a series of frowns and +staccato shakes of the head, which her husband found easily +translatable. Under the austere stare of Mr. Bodfish their faces at +once regained their wonted calm, and the ex-constable in a somewhat +offended manner resumed his inquiries. + +“Mrs. Driver has been here a good bit lately,” he remarked, slowly. + +Mr. Negget’s eyes watered, and his mouth worked piteously. + +“If you can’t behave yourself, George,” began his wife, fiercely. + +“What is the matter?” demanded Mr. Bodfish. “I’m not aware that I’ve +said anything to be laughed at.” + +“No more you have, uncle,” retorted his niece; “only George is such a +stupid. He’s got an idea in his silly head that Mrs. Driver—But it’s +all nonsense, of course.” + +“I’ve merely got a bit of an idea that it’s a wedding-ring, not a +brooch, Mrs. Driver is after,” said the farmer to the perplexed +constable. + +Mr. Bodfish looked from one to the other. “But you always keep yours +on, Lizzie, don’t you?” he asked. + +“Yes, of course,” replied his niece, hurriedly; “but George has always +got such strange ideas. Don’t take no notice of him.” + +Her uncle sat back in his chair, his face still wrinkled perplexedly; +then the wrinkles vanished suddenly, chased away by a huge glow, and he +rose wrathfully and towered over the match-making Mr. Negget. “How dare +you?” he gasped. + +Mr. Negget made no reply, but in a cowardly fashion jerked his thumb +toward his wife. + +“Oh! George! How can you say so?” said the latter. + +“I should never ha’ thought of it by myself,” said the farmer; “but I +think they’d make a very nice couple, and I’m sure Mrs. Driver thinks +so.” + +The ex-constable sat down in wrathful confusion, and taking up his +notebook again, watched over the top of it the silent charges and +countercharges of his niece and her husband. + +“If I put my finger on the culprit,” he asked at length, turning to his +niece, “what do you wish done to her?” + +Mrs. Negget regarded him with an expression which contained all the +Christian virtues rolled into one. + +“Nothing,” she said, softly. “I only want my brooch back.” + +The ex-constable shook his head at this leniency. + +“Well, do as you please,” he said, slowly. “In the first place, I want +you to ask Mrs. Driver here to tea to-morrow—oh, I don’t mind Negget’s +ridiculous ideas—pity he hasn’t got something better to think of; if +she’s guilty, I’ll soon find it out. I’ll play with her like a cat with +a mouse. I’ll make her convict herself.” + +“Look here!” said Mr. Negget, with sudden vigour. “I won’t have it. I +won’t have no woman asked here to tea to be got at like that. There’s +only my friends comes here to tea, and if any friend stole anything o’ +mine, I’d be one o’ the first to hush it up.” + +“If they were all like you, George,” said his wife, angrily, “where +would the law be?” + +“Or the police?” demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him. + +“I won’t have it!” repeated the farmer, loudly. “I’m the law here, and +I’m the police here. That little tiny bit o’ dirt was off my boots, I +dare say. I don’t care if it was.” + +“Very good,” said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; “if he +likes to look at it that way, there’s nothing more to be said. I only +wanted to get your brooch back for you, that’s all; but if he’s against +it—” + +“I’m against your asking Mrs. Driver here to my house to be got at,” +said the farmer. + +“O’ course if you can find out who took the brooch, and get it back +again anyway, that’s another matter.” + +Mr. Bodfish leaned over the table toward his niece. + +“If I get an opportunity, I’ll search her cottage,” he said, in a low +voice. “Strictly speaking, it ain’t quite a legal thing to do, o +course, but many o’ the finest pieces of detective work have been done +by breaking the law. If she’s a kleptomaniac, it’s very likely lying +about somewhere in the house.” + +He eyed Mr. Negget closely, as though half expecting another outburst, +but none being forthcoming, sat back in his chair again and smoked in +silence, while Mrs. Negget, with a carpet-brush which almost spoke, +swept the pieces of dried mud from the stairs. + +Mr. Negget was the last to go to bed that night, and finishing his pipe +over the dying fire, sat for some time in deep thought. He had from the +first raised objections to the presence of Mr. Bodfish at the farm, but +family affection, coupled with an idea of testamentary benefits, had so +wrought with his wife that he had allowed her to have her own way. Now +he half fancied that he saw a chance of getting rid of him. If he could +only enable the widow to catch him searching her house, it was highly +probable that the ex-constable would find the village somewhat too hot +to hold him. He gave his right leg a congratulatory slap as he thought +of it, and knocking the ashes from his pipe, went slowly up to bed. + +He was so amiable next morning that Mr. Bodfish, who was trying to +explain to Mrs. Negget the difference between theft and kleptomania, +spoke before him freely. The ex-constable defined kleptomania as a sort +of amiable weakness found chiefly among the upper circles, and cited +the case of a lady of title whose love of diamonds, combined with great +hospitality, was a source of much embarrassment to her guests. + +For the whole of that day Mr. Bodfish hung about in the neighbourhood +of the widow’s cottage, but in vain, and it would be hard to say +whether he or Mr. Negget, who had been discreetly shadowing him, felt +the disappointment most. On the day following, however, the +ex-constable from a distant hedge saw a friend of the widow’s enter the +cottage, and a little later both ladies emerged and walked up the road. + +He watched them turn the corner, and then, with a cautious glance +round, which failed, however, to discover Mr. Negget, the ex-constable +strolled casually in the direction of the cottage, and approaching it +from the rear, turned the handle of the door and slipped in. + +He searched the parlour hastily, and then, after a glance from the +window, ventured up stairs. And he was in the thick of his self-imposed +task when his graceless nephew by marriage, who had met Mrs. Driver and +referred pathetically to a raging thirst which he had hoped to have +quenched with some of her home-brewed, brought the ladies hastily back +again. + +“I’ll go round the back way,” said the wily Negget as they approached +the cottage. “I just want to have a look at that pig of yours.” + +He reached the back door at the same time as Mr. Bodfish, and placing +his legs apart, held it firmly against the frantic efforts of the +exconstable. The struggle ceased suddenly, and the door opened easily +just as Mrs. Driver and her friend appeared in the front room, and the +farmer, with a keen glance at the door of the larder which had just +closed, took a chair while his hostess drew a glass of beer from the +barrel in the kitchen. + +Mr. Negget drank gratefully and praised the brew. From beer the +conversation turned naturally to the police, and from the police to the +listening Mr. Bodfish, who was economizing space by sitting on the +bread-pan, and trembling with agitation. + +“He’s a lonely man,” said Negget, shaking his head and glancing from +the corner of his eye at the door of the larder. In his wildest dreams +he had not imagined so choice a position, and he resolved to give full +play to an idea which suddenly occurred to him. + +“I dare say,” said Mrs. Driver, carelessly, conscious that her friend +was watching her. + +“And the heart of a little child,” said Negget; “you wouldn’t believe +how simple he is.” + +Mrs. Clowes said that it did him credit, but, speaking for herself, she +hadn’t noticed it. + +“He was talking about you night before last,” said Negget, turning to +his hostess; “not that that’s anything fresh. He always is talking +about you nowadays.” + +The widow coughed confusedly and told him not to be foolish. + +“Ask my wife,” said the farmer, impressively; “they were talking about +you for hours. He’s a very shy man is my wife’s uncle, but you should +see his face change when your name’s mentioned.” + +As a matter of fact, Mr. Bodfish’s face was at that very moment taking +on a deeper shade of crimson. + +“Everything you do seems to interest him,” continued the farmer, +disregarding Mrs. Driver’s manifest distress; “he was asking Lizzie +about your calling on Monday; how long you stayed, and where you sat; +and after she’d told him, I’m blest if he didn’t go and sit in the same +chair!” + +This romantic setting to a perfectly casual action on the part of Mr. +Bodfish affected the widow visibly, but its effect on the ex-constable +nearly upset the bread-pan. + +“But here,” continued Mr. Negget, with another glance at the larder, +“he might go on like that for years. He’s a wunnerful shy man—big, and +gentle, and shy. He wanted Lizzie to ask you to tea yesterday.” + +“Now, Mr. Negget,” said the blushing widow. “Do be quiet.” + +“Fact,” replied the farmer; “solemn fact, I assure you. And he asked +her whether you were fond of jewellery.” + +“I met him twice in the road near here yesterday,” said Mrs. Clowes, +suddenly. “Perhaps he was waiting for you to come out.” + +“I dare say,” replied the farmer. “I shouldn’t wonder but what he’s +hanging about somewhere near now, unable to tear himself away.” + +Mr. Bodfish wrung his hands, and his thoughts reverted instinctively to +instances in his memory in which charges of murder had been altered by +the direction of a sensible judge to manslaughter. He held his breath +for the next words. + +Mr. Negget drank a little more ale and looked at Mrs. Driver. + +“I wonder whether you’ve got a morsel of bread and cheese?” he said, +slowly. “I’ve come over that hungry—” + +[Illustration: Mrs. Driver fell back before the emerging form of Mr. +Bodfish.] + +The widow and Mr. Bodfish rose simultaneously. It required not the +brain of a trained detective to know that the cheese was in the larder. +The unconscious Mrs. Driver opened the door, and then with a wild +scream fell back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish into the arms +of Mrs. Clowes. The glass of Mr. Negget smashed on the floor, and the +farmer himself, with every appearance of astonishment, stared at the +apparition open-mouthed. + +“Mr.—Bodfish!” he said at length, slowly. + +Mr. Bodfish, incapable of speech, glared at him ferociously. + +“Leave him alone,” said Mrs. Clowes, who was ministering to her friend. +“Can’t you see the man’s upset at frightening her? She’s coming round, +Mr. Bodfish; don’t be alarmed.” + +“Very good,” said the farmer, who found his injured relative’s gaze +somewhat trying. “I’ll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver why +he was hidden in her larder. It don’t seem a proper thing to me.” + +“Why, you silly man,” said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at the +door, “that don’t want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we’re giving +you your chance. Mind you make the most of it, and don’t be too shy.” + +She walked excitedly up the road with the farmer, and bidding him +good-bye at the corner, went off hastily to spread the news. Mr. Negget +walked home soberly, and hardly staying long enough to listen to his +wife’s account of the finding of the brooch between the chest of +drawers and the wall, went off to spend the evening with a friend, and +ended by making a night of it. + + + + +IN THE LIBRARY + + +The fire had burnt low in the library, for the night was wet and warm. +It was now little more than a grey shell, and looked desolate. Trayton +Burleigh, still hot, rose from his armchair, and turning out one of the +gas-jets, took a cigar from a box on a side-table and resumed his seat +again. + +The apartment, which was on the third floor at the back of the house, +was a combination of library, study, and smoke-room, and was the daily +despair of the old housekeeper who, with the assistance of one servant, +managed the house. It was a bachelor establishment, and had been left +to Trayton Burleigh and James Fletcher by a distant connection of both +men some ten years before. + +Trayton Burleigh sat back in his chair watching the smoke of his cigar +through half-closed eyes. Occasionally he opened them a little wider +and glanced round the comfortable, well-furnished room, or stared with +a cold gleam of hatred at Fletcher as he sat sucking stolidly at his +brier pipe. It was a comfortable room and a valuable house, half of +which belonged to Trayton Burleigh; and yet he was to leave it in the +morning and become a rogue and a wanderer over the face of the earth. +James Fletcher had said so. James Fletcher, with the pipe still between +his teeth and speaking from one corner of his mouth only, had +pronounced his sentence. + +“It hasn’t occurred to you, I suppose,” said Burleigh, speaking +suddenly, “that I might refuse your terms.” + +“No,” said Fletcher, simply. + +Burleigh took a great mouthful of smoke and let it roll slowly out. + +“I am to go out and leave you in possession?” he continued. “You will +stay here sole proprietor of the house; you will stay at the office +sole owner and representative of the firm? You are a good hand at a +deal, James Fletcher.” + +“I am an honest man,” said Fletcher, “and to raise sufficient money to +make your defalcations good will not by any means leave me the gainer, +as you very well know.” + +“There is no necessity to borrow,” began Burleigh, eagerly. “We can pay +the interest easily, and in course of time make the principal good +without a soul being the wiser.” + +“That you suggested before,” said Fletcher, “and my answer is the same. +I will be no man’s confederate in dishonesty; I will raise every penny +at all costs, and save the name of the firm—and yours with it—but I +will never have you darken the office again, or sit in this house after +to-night.” + +“_You_ won’t,” cried Burleigh, starting up in a frenzy of rage. + +“_I_ won’t,” said Fletcher. “You can choose the alternative: disgrace +and penal servitude. Don’t stand over me; you won’t frighten me, I can +assure you. Sit down.” + +“You have arranged so many things in your kindness,” said Burleigh, +slowly, resuming his seat again, “have you arranged how I am to live?” + +“You have two strong hands, and health,” replied Fletcher. “I will give +you the two hundred pounds I mentioned, and after that you must look +out for yourself. You can take it now.” + +He took a leather case from his breast pocket, and drew out a roll of +notes. Burleigh, watching him calmly, stretched out his hand and took +them from the table. Then he gave way to a sudden access of rage, and +crumpling them in his hand, threw them into a corner of the room. +Fletcher smoked on. + +“Mrs. Marl is out?” said Burleigh, suddenly. + +Fletcher nodded. + +“She will be away the night,” he said, slowly; “and Jane too; they have +gone together somewhere, but they will be back at half-past eight in +the morning.” + +“You are going to let me have one more breakfast in the old place, +then,” said Burleigh. “Half-past eight, half-past—-” + +He rose from his chair again. This time Fletcher took his pipe from his +mouth and watched him closely. Burleigh stooped, and picking up the +notes, placed them in his pocket. + +“If I am to be turned adrift, it shall not be to leave you here,” he +said, in a thick voice. + +He crossed over and shut the door; as he turned back Fletcher rose from +his chair and stood confronting him. Burleigh put his hand to the wall, +and drawing a small Japanese sword from its sheath of carved ivory, +stepped slowly toward him. + +“I give you one chance, Fletcher,” he said, grimly. “You are a man of +your word. Hush this up and let things be as they were before, and you +are safe.” + +“Put that down,” said Fletcher, sharply. + +“By —, I mean what I say!” cried the other. + +“I mean what I said!” answered Fletcher. + +He looked round at the last moment for a weapon, then he turned +suddenly at a sharp sudden pain, and saw Burleigh’s clenched fist +nearly touching his breast-bone. The hand came away from his breast +again, and something with it. It went a long way off. Trayton Burleigh +suddenly went to a great distance and the room darkened. It got quite +dark, and Fletcher, with an attempt to raise his hands, let them fall +to his side instead, and fell in a heap to the floor. + +He was so still that Burleigh could hardly realize that it was all +over, and stood stupidly waiting for him to rise again. Then he took +out his handkerchief as though to wipe the sword, and thinking better +of it, put it back into his pocket again, and threw the weapon on to +the floor. + +[Illustration: Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward +the door.] + +The body of Fletcher lay where it had fallen, the white face turned up +to the gas. In life he had been a commonplace-looking man, not to say +vulgar; now Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the +door, until the body was hidden by the table, and relieved from the +sight, he could think more clearly. He looked down carefully and +examined his clothes and his boots. Then he crossed the room again, and +with his face averted, turned out the gas. Something seemed to stir in +the darkness, and with a faint cry he blundered toward the door before +he had realized that it was the clock. It struck twelve. + +He stood at the head of the stairs trying to recover himself; trying to +think. The gas on the landing below, the stairs and the furniture, all +looked so prosaic and familiar that he could not realize what had +occurred. He walked slowly down and turned the light out. The darkness +of the upper part of the house was now almost appalling, and in a +sudden panic he ran down stairs into the lighted hall, and snatching a +hat from the stand, went to the door and walked down to the gate. + +Except for one window the neighbouring houses were in darkness, and the +lamps shone upon a silent street. There was a little rain in the air, +and the muddy road was full of pebbles. He stood at the gate trying to +screw up his courage to enter the house again. Then he noticed a figure +coming slowly up the road and keeping close to the palings. + +The full realization of what he had done broke in upon him when he +found himself turning to fly from the approach of the constable. The +wet cape glistening in the lamplight, the slow, heavy step, made him +tremble. Suppose the thing upstairs was not quite dead and should cry +out? Suppose the constable should think it strange for him to be +standing there and follow him in? He assumed a careless attitude, which +did not feel careless, and as the man passed bade him good-night, and +made a remark as to the weather. + +Ere the sound of the other’s footsteps had gone quite out of hearing, +he turned and entered the house again before the sense of companionship +should have quite departed. The first flight of stairs was lighted by +the gas in the hall, and he went up slowly. Then he struck a match and +went up steadily, past the library door, and with firm fingers turned +on the gas in his bedroom and lit it. He opened the window a little +way, and sitting down on his bed, tried to think. + +He had got eight hours. Eight hours and two hundred pounds in small +notes. He opened his safe and took out all the loose cash it contained, +and walking about the room, gathered up and placed in his pockets such +articles of jewellery as he possessed. + +The first horror had now to some extent passed, and was succeeded by +the fear of death. + +With this fear on him he sat down again and tried to think out the +first moves in that game of skill of which his life was the stake. He +had often read of people of hasty temper, evading the police for a +time, and eventually falling into their hands for lack of the most +elementary common sense. He had heard it said that they always made +some stupid blunder, left behind them some damning clue. He took his +revolver from a drawer and saw that it was loaded. If the worst came to +the worst, he would die quickly. + +Eight hours’ start; two hundred odd pounds. He would take lodgings at +first in some populous district, and let the hair on his face grow. +When the hue-and-cry had ceased, he would go abroad and start life +again. He would go out of a night and post letters to himself, or +better still, postcards, which his landlady would read. Postcards from +cheery friends, from a sister, from a brother. During the day he would +stay in and write, as became a man who described himself as a +journalist. + +Or suppose he went to the sea? Who would look for him in flannels, +bathing and boating with ordinary happy mortals? He sat and pondered. +One might mean life, and the other death. Which? + +His face burned as he thought of the responsibility of the choice. So +many people went to the sea at that time of year that he would surely +pass unnoticed. But at the sea one might meet acquaintances. He got up +and nervously paced the room again. It was not so simple, now that it +meant so much, as he had thought. + +The sharp little clock on the mantel-piece rang out “one,” followed +immediately by the deeper note of that in the library. He thought of +the clock, it seemed the only live thing in that room, and shuddered. +He wondered whether the thing lying by the far side of the table heard +it. He wondered—- + +He started and held his breath with fear. Somewhere down stairs a board +creaked loudly, then another. He went to the door, and opening it a +little way, but without looking out, listened. The house was so still +that he could hear the ticking of the old clock in the kitchen below. +He opened the door a little wider and peeped out. As he did so there +was a sudden sharp outcry on the stairs, and he drew back into the room +and stood trembling before he had quite realized that the noise had +been made by the cat. The cry was unmistakable; but what had disturbed +it? + +There was silence again, and he drew near the door once more. He became +certain that something was moving stealthily on the stairs. He heard +the boards creak again, and once the rails of the balustrade rattled. +The silence and suspense were frightful. Suppose that the something +which had been Fletcher waited for him in the darkness outside? + +He fought his fears down, and opening the door, determined to see what +was beyond. The light from his room streamed out on to the landing, and +he peered about fearfully. Was it fancy, or did the door of Fletcher’s +room opposite close as he looked? Was it fancy, or did the handle of +the door really turn? + +In perfect silence, and watching the door as he moved, to see that +nothing came out and followed him, he proceeded slowly down the dark +stairs. Then his jaw fell, and he turned sick and faint again. The +library door, which he distinctly remembered closing, and which, +moreover, he had seen was closed when he went up stairs to his room, +now stood open some four or five inches. He fancied that there was a +rustling inside, but his brain refused to be certain. Then plainly and +unmistakably he heard a chair pushed against the wall. + +He crept to the door, hoping to pass it before the thing inside became +aware of his presence. Something crept stealthily about the room. With +a sudden impulse he caught the handle of the door, and, closing it +violently, turned the key in the lock, and ran madly down the stairs. + +A fearful cry sounded from the room, and a heavy hand beat upon the +panels of the door. The house rang with the blows, but above them +sounded the loud hoarse cries of human fear. Burleigh, half-way down to +the hall, stopped with his hand on the balustrade and listened. The +beating ceased, and a man’s voice cried out loudly for God’s sake to +let him out. + +At once Burleigh saw what had happened and what it might mean for him. +He had left the hall door open after his visit to the front, and some +wandering bird of the night had entered the house. No need for him to +go now. No need to hide either from the hangman’s rope or the felon’s +cell. The fool above had saved him. He turned and ran up stairs again +just as the prisoner in his furious efforts to escape wrenched the +handle from the door. + +“Who’s there?” he cried, loudly. + +“Let me out!” cried a frantic voice. “For God’s sake, open the door! +There’s something here.” + +“Stay where you are!” shouted Burleigh, sternly. “Stay where you are! +If you come out, I’ll shoot you like a dog!” + +The only response was a smashing blow on the lock of the door. Burleigh +raised his pistol, and aiming at the height of a man’s chest, fired +through the panel. + +The report and the crashing of the wood made one noise, succeeded by an +unearthly stillness, then the noise of a window hastily opened. +Burleigh fled hastily down the stairs, and flinging wide the hall door, +shouted loudly for assistance. + +It happened that a sergeant and the constable on the beat had just met +in the road. They came toward the house at a run. Burleigh, with +incoherent explanations, ran up stairs before them, and halted outside +the library door. The prisoner was still inside, still trying to +demolish the lock of the sturdy oaken door. Burleigh tried to turn the +key, but the lock was too damaged to admit of its moving. The sergeant +drew back, and, shoulder foremost, hurled himself at the door and burst +it open. + +He stumbled into the room, followed by the constable, and two shafts of +light from the lanterns at their belts danced round the room. A man +lurking behind the door made a dash for it, and the next instant the +three men were locked together. + +Burleigh, standing in the doorway, looked on coldly, reserving himself +for the scene which was to follow. Except for the stumbling of the men +and the sharp catch of the prisoner’s breath, there was no noise. A +helmet fell off and bounced and rolled along the floor. The men fell; +there was a sobbing snarl and a sharp click. A tall figure rose from +the floor; the other, on his knees, still held the man down. The +standing figure felt in his pocket, and, striking a match, lit the gas. + +The light fell on the flushed face and fair beard of the sergeant. He +was bare-headed, and his hair dishevelled. Burleigh entered the room +and gazed eagerly at the half-insensible man on the floor-a short, +thick-set fellow with a white, dirty face and a black moustache. His +lip was cut and bled down his neck. Burleigh glanced furtively at the +table. The cloth had come off in the struggle, and was now in the place +where he had left Fletcher. + +“Hot work, sir,” said the sergeant, with a smile. “It’s fortunate we +were handy.” + +The prisoner raised a heavy head and looked up with unmistakable terror +in his eyes. + +“All right, sir,” he said, trembling, as the constable increased the +pressure of his knee. “I ’ain’t been in the house ten minutes +altogether. By —, I’ve not.” + +The sergeant regarded him curiously. + +“It don’t signify,” he said, slowly; “ten minutes or ten seconds won’t +make any difference.” + +The man shook and began to whimper. + +“It was ’ere when I come,” he said, eagerly; “take that down, sir. I’ve +only just come, and it was ’ere when I come. I tried to get away then, +but I was locked in.” + +“What was?” demanded the sergeant. + +“_That_,” he said, desperately. + +The sergeant, following the direction of the terror-stricken black +eyes, stooped by the table. Then, with a sharp exclamation, he dragged +away the cloth. Burleigh, with a sharp cry of horror, reeled back +against the wall. + +“All right, sir,” said the sergeant, catching him; “all right. Turn +your head away.” + +He pushed him into a chair, and crossing the room, poured out a glass +of whiskey and brought it to him. The glass rattled against his teeth, +but he drank it greedily, and then groaned faintly. The sergeant waited +patiently. There was no hurry. + +“Who is it, sir?” he asked at length. + +“My friend—Fletcher,” said Burleigh, with an effort. “We lived +together.” He turned to the prisoner. + +“You damned villain!” + +“He was dead when I come in the room, gentlemen,” said the prisoner, +strenuously. “He was on the floor dead, and when I see ’im, I tried to +get out. S’ ’elp me he was. You heard me call out, sir. I shouldn’t ha’ +called out if I’d killed him.” + +“All right,” said the sergeant, gruffly; “you’d better hold your +tongue, you know.” + +“You keep quiet,” urged the constable. + +The sergeant knelt down and raised the dead man’s head. + +“I ’ad nothing to do with it,” repeated the man on the floor. “I ’ad +nothing to do with it. I never thought of such a thing. I’ve only been +in the place ten minutes; put that down, sir.” + +The sergeant groped with his left hand, and picking up the Japanese +sword, held it at him. + +“I’ve never seen it before,” said the prisoner, struggling. + +“It used to hang on the wall,” said Burleigh. “He must have snatched it +down. It was on the wall when I left Fletcher a little while ago.” + +“How long?” inquired the sergeant. + +“Perhaps an hour, perhaps half an hour,” was the reply. “I went to my +bedroom.” + +The man on the floor twisted his head and regarded him narrowly. + +“You done it!” he cried, fiercely. “You done it, and you want me to +swing for it.” + +“That’ll do,” said the indignant constable. + +The sergeant let his burden gently to the floor again. + +“You hold your tongue, you devil!” he said, menacingly. + +He crossed to the table and poured a little spirit into a glass and +took it in his hand. Then he put it down again and crossed to Burleigh. + +“Feeling better, sir?” he asked. + +The other nodded faintly. + +“You won’t want this thing any more,” said the sergeant. + +He pointed to the pistol which the other still held, and taking it from +him gently, put it into his pocket. + +“You’ve hurt your wrist, sir,” he said, anxiously. + +Burleigh raised one hand sharply, and then the other. + +“This one, I think,” said the sergeant. “I saw it just now.” + +He took the other’s wrists in his hand, and suddenly holding them in +the grip of a vice, whipped out something from his pocket—something +hard and cold, which snapped suddenly on Burleigh’s wrists, and held +them fast. + +“That’s right,” said the sergeant; “keep quiet.” + +The constable turned round in amaze; Burleigh sprang toward him +furiously. + +“Take these things off!” he choked. “Have you gone mad? Take them off!” + +“All in good time,” said the sergeant. + +“Take them off!” cried Burleigh again. + +For answer the sergeant took him in a powerful grip, and staring +steadily at his white face and gleaming eyes, forced him to the other +end of the room and pushed him into a chair. + +“Collins,” he said, sharply. + +“Sir?” said the astonished subordinate. + +“Run to the doctor at the corner hard as you can run!” said the other. +“_This man is not dead!_” + +As the man left the room the sergeant took up the glass of spirits he +had poured out, and kneeling down by Fletcher again, raised his head +and tried to pour a little down his throat. Burleigh, sitting in his +corner, watched like one in a trance. He saw the constable return with +the breathless surgeon, saw the three men bending over Fletcher, and +then saw the eyes of the dying man open and the lips of the dying man +move. He was conscious that the sergeant made some notes in a +pocket-book, and that all three men eyed him closely. The sergeant +stepped toward him and placed his hand on his shoulder, and obedient to +the touch, he arose and went with him out into the night. + + + + +CAPTAIN ROGERS + + +A man came slowly over the old stone bridge, and averting his gaze from +the dark river with its silent craft, looked with some satisfaction +toward the feeble lights of the small town on the other side. He walked +with the painful, forced step of one who has already trudged far. His +worsted hose, where they were not darned, were in holes, and his coat +and knee-breeches were rusty with much wear, but he straightened +himself as he reached the end of the bridge and stepped out bravely to +the taverns which stood in a row facing the quay. + +He passed the “Queen Anne”—a mere beershop—without pausing, and after a +glance apiece at the “Royal George” and the “Trusty Anchor,” kept on +his way to where the “Golden Key” hung out a gilded emblem. It was the +best house in Riverstone, and patronized by the gentry, but he adjusted +his faded coat, and with a swaggering air entered and walked boldly +into the coffee-room. + +The room was empty, but a bright fire afforded a pleasant change to the +chill October air outside. He drew up a chair, and placing his feet on +the fender, exposed his tattered soles to the blaze, as a waiter who +had just seen him enter the room came and stood aggressively inside the +door. + +“Brandy and water,” said the stranger; “hot.” + +“The coffee-room is for gentlemen staying in the house,” said the +waiter. + +The stranger took his feet from the fender, and rising slowly, walked +toward him. He was a short man and thin, but there was something so +menacing in his attitude, and something so fearsome in his stony brown +eyes, that the other, despite his disgust for ill-dressed people, moved +back uneasily. + +“Brandy and water, hot,” repeated the stranger; “and plenty of it. D’ye +hear?” + +The man turned slowly to depart. + +“Stop!” said the other, imperiously. “What’s the name of the landlord +here?” + +“Mullet,” said the fellow, sulkily. + +“Send him to me,” said the other, resuming his seat; “and hark you, my +friend, more civility, or ’twill be the worse for you.” + +He stirred the log on the fire with his foot until a shower of sparks +whirled up the chimney. The door opened, and the landlord, with the +waiter behind him, entered the room, but he still gazed placidly at the +glowing embers. + +“What do you want?” demanded the landlord, in a deep voice. + +The stranger turned a little weazened yellow face and grinned at him +familiarly. + +“Send that fat rascal of yours away,” he said, slowly. + +The landlord started at his voice and eyed him closely; then he signed +to the man to withdraw, and closing the door behind him, stood silently +watching his visitor. + +“You didn’t expect to see me, Rogers,” said the latter. + +“My name’s Mullet,” said the other, sternly. “What do you want?” + +“Oh, Mullet?” said the other, in surprise. “I’m afraid I’ve made a +mistake, then. I thought you were my old shipmate, Captain Rogers. It’s +a foolish mistake of mine, as I’ve no doubt Rogers was hanged years +ago. You never had a brother named Rogers, did you?” + +“I say again, what do you want?” demanded the other, advancing upon +him. + +“Since you’re so good,” said the other. “I want new clothes, food, and +lodging of the best, and my pockets filled with money.” + +“You had better go and look for all those things, then,” said Mullet. +“You won’t find them here.” + +“Ay!” said the other, rising. “Well, well—There was a hundred guineas +on the head of my old shipmate Rogers some fifteen years ago. I’ll see +whether it has been earned yet.” + +“If I gave you a hundred guineas,” said the innkeeper, repressing his +passion by a mighty effort, “you would not be satisfied.” + +“Reads like a book,” said the stranger, in tones of pretended delight. +“What a man it is!” + +He fell back as he spoke, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew +forth a long pistol as the innkeeper, a man of huge frame, edged toward +him. + +“Keep your distance,” he said, in a sharp, quick voice. + +The innkeeper, in no wise disturbed at the pistol, turned away calmly, +and ringing the bell, ordered some spirits. Then taking a chair, he +motioned to the other to do the same, and they sat in silence until the +staring waiter had left the room again. The stranger raised his glass. + +“My old friend Captain Rogers,” he said, solemnly, “and may he never +get his deserts!” + +“From what jail have you come?” inquired Mullet, sternly. + +“’Pon my soul,” said the other, “I have been in so many—looking for +Captain Rogers—that I almost forget the last, but I have just tramped +from London, two hundred and eighty odd miles, for the pleasure of +seeing your damned ugly figure-head again; and now I’ve found it, I’m +going to stay. Give me some money.” + +The innkeeper, without a word, drew a little gold and silver from his +pocket, and placing it on the table, pushed it toward him. + +“Enough to go on with,” said the other, pocketing it; “in future it is +halves. D’ye hear me? _Halves!_ And I’ll stay here and see I get it.” + +He sat back in his chair, and meeting the other’s hatred with a gaze as +steady as his own, replaced his pistol. + +“A nice snug harbor after our many voyages,” he continued. “Shipmates +we were, shipmates we’ll be; while Nick Gunn is alive you shall never +want for company. Lord! Do you remember the Dutch brig, and the fat +frightened mate?” + +“I have forgotten it,” said the other, still eyeing him steadfastly. “I +have forgotten many things. For fifteen years I have lived a decent, +honest life. Pray God for your own sinful soul, that the devil in me +does not wake again.” + +“Fifteen years is a long nap,” said Gunn, carelessly; “what a godsend +it’ll be for you to have me by you to remind you of old times! Why, +you’re looking smug, man; the honest innkeeper to the life! Gad! who’s +the girl?” + +He rose and made a clumsy bow as a girl of eighteen, after a moment’s +hesitation at the door, crossed over to the innkeeper. + +“I’m busy, my dear,” said the latter, somewhat sternly. + +“Our business,” said Gunn, with another bow, “is finished. Is this your +daughter, Rog— Mullet?” + +“My stepdaughter,” was the reply. + +[Illustration: Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his +breast.] + +Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast, and bowed +again. + +“One of your father’s oldest friends,” he said smoothly; “and fallen on +evil days; I’m sure your gentle heart will be pleased to hear that your +good father has requested me—for a time—to make his house my home.” + +“Any friend of my father’s is welcome to me, sir,” said the girl, +coldly. She looked from the innkeeper to his odd-looking guest, and +conscious of something strained in the air, gave him a little bow and +quitted the room. + +“You insist upon staying, then?” said Mullet, after a pause. + +“More than ever,” replied Gunn, with a leer toward the door. “Why, you +don’t think I’m _afraid_, Captain? You should know me better than +that.” + +“Life is sweet,” said the other. + +“Ay,” assented Gunn, “so sweet that you will share things with me to +keep it.” + +“No,” said the other, with great calm. “I am man enough to have a +better reason.” + +“No psalm singing,” said Gunn, coarsely. “And look cheerful, you old +buccaneer. Look as a man should look who has just met an old friend +never to lose him again.” + +He eyed his man expectantly and put his hand to his pocket again, but +the innkeeper’s face was troubled, and he gazed stolidly at the fire. + +“See what fifteen years’ honest, decent life does for us,” grinned the +intruder. + +The other made no reply, but rising slowly, walked to the door without +a word. + +“Landlord,” cried Gunn, bringing his maimed hand sharply down on the +table. + +The innkeeper turned and regarded him. + +“Send me in some supper,” said Gunn; “the best you have, and plenty of +it, and have a room prepared. The best.” + +The door closed silently, and was opened a little later by the dubious +George coming in to set a bountiful repast. Gunn, after cursing him for +his slowness and awkwardness, drew his chair to the table and made the +meal of one seldom able to satisfy his hunger. He finished at last, and +after sitting for some time smoking, with his legs sprawled on the +fender, rang for a candle and demanded to be shown to his room. + +His proceedings when he entered it were but a poor compliment to his +host. Not until he had poked and pried into every corner did he close +the door. Then, not content with locking it, he tilted a chair beneath +the handle, and placing his pistol beneath his pillow, fell fast +asleep. + +Despite his fatigue he was early astir next morning. Breakfast was laid +for him in the coffee-room, and his brow darkened. He walked into the +hall, and after trying various doors entered a small sitting-room, +where his host and daughter sat at breakfast, and with an easy +assurance drew a chair to the table. The innkeeper helped him without a +word, but the girl’s hand shook under his gaze as she passed him some +coffee. + +“As soft a bed as ever I slept in,” he remarked. + +“I hope that you slept well,” said the girl, civilly. + +“Like a child,” said Gunn, gravely; “an easy conscience. Eh, Mullet?” + +The innkeeper nodded and went on eating. The other, after another +remark or two, followed his example, glancing occasionally with warm +approval at the beauty of the girl who sat at the head of the table. + +“A sweet girl,” he remarked, as she withdrew at the end of the meal; +“and no mother, I presume?” + +“No mother,” repeated the other. + +Gunn sighed and shook his head. + +“A sad case, truly,” he murmured. “No mother and such a guardian. Poor +soul, if she but knew! Well, we must find her a husband.” + +He looked down as he spoke, and catching sight of his rusty clothes and +broken shoes, clapped his hand to his pocket; and with a glance at his +host, sallied out to renew his wardrobe. The innkeeper, with an +inscrutable face, watched him down the quay, then with bent head he +returned to the house and fell to work on his accounts. + +In this work Gunn, returning an hour later, clad from head to foot in +new apparel, offered to assist him. Mullett hesitated, but made no +demur; neither did he join in the ecstasies which his new partner +displayed at the sight of the profits. Gunn put some more gold into his +new pockets, and throwing himself back in a chair, called loudly to +George to bring him some drink. + +In less than a month the intruder was the virtual master of the “Golden +Key.” Resistance on the part of the legitimate owner became more and +more feeble, the slightest objection on his part drawing from the +truculent Gunn dark allusions to his past and threats against his +future, which for the sake of his daughter he could not ignore. His +health began to fail, and Joan watched with perplexed terror the growth +of a situation which was in a fair way of becoming unbearable. + +The arrogance of Gunn knew no bounds. The maids learned to tremble at +his polite grin, or his worse freedom, and the men shrank appalled from +his profane wrath. George, after ten years’ service, was brutally +dismissed, and refusing to accept dismissal from his hands, appealed to +his master. The innkeeper confirmed it, and with lack-lustre eyes +fenced feebly when his daughter, regardless of Gunn’s presence, +indignantly appealed to him. + +“The man was rude to my friend, my dear,” he said dispiritedly + +“If he was rude, it was because Mr. Gunn deserved it,” said Joan, +hotly. + +Gunn laughed uproariously. + +“Gad, my dear, I like you!” he cried, slapping his leg. “You’re a girl +of spirit. Now I will make you a fair offer. If you ask for George to +stay, stay he shall, as a favour to your sweet self.” + +The girl trembled. + +“Who is master here?” she demanded, turning a full eye on her father. + +Mullet laughed uneasily. + +“This is business,” he said, trying to speak lightly, “and women can’t +understand it. Gunn is—is valuable to me, and George must go.” + +“Unless you plead for him, sweet one?” said Gunn. + +The girl looked at her father again, but he turned his head away and +tapped on the floor with his foot. Then in perplexity, akin to tears, +she walked from the room, carefully drawing her dress aside as Gunn +held the door for her. + +“A fine girl,” said Gunn, his thin lips working; “a fine spirit. ’Twill +be pleasant to break it; but she does not know who is master here.” + +“She is young yet,” said the other, hurriedly. + +“I will soon age her if she looks like that at me again,” said Gunn. +“By —, I’ll turn out the whole crew into the street, and her with them, +an’ I wish it. I’ll lie in my bed warm o’ nights and think of her +huddled on a doorstep.” + +His voice rose and his fists clenched, but he kept his distance and +watched the other warily. The innkeeper’s face was contorted and his +brow grew wet. For one moment something peeped out of his eyes; the +next he sat down in his chair again and nervously fingered his chin. + +“I have but to speak,” said Gunn, regarding him with much satisfaction, +“and you will hang, and your money go to the Crown. What will become of +her then, think you?” + +The other laughed nervously. + +“’Twould be stopping the golden eggs,” he ventured. + +“Don’t think too much of that,” said Gunn, in a hard voice. “I was +never one to be baulked, as you know.” + +“Come, come. Let us be friends,” said Mullet; “the girl is young, and +has had her way.” + +He looked almost pleadingly at the other, and his voice trembled. Gunn +drew himself up, and regarding him with a satisfied sneer, quitted the +room without a word. + +Affairs at the “Golden Key” grew steadily worse and worse. Gunn +dominated the place, and his vile personality hung over it like a +shadow. Appeals to the innkeeper were in vain; his health was breaking +fast, and he moodily declined to interfere. Gunn appointed servants of +his own choosing-brazen maids and foul-mouthed men. The old patrons +ceased to frequent the “Golden Key,” and its bedrooms stood empty. The +maids scarcely deigned to take an order from Joan, and the men spoke to +her familiarly. In the midst of all this the innkeeper, who had +complained once or twice of vertigo, was seized with a fit. + +Joan, flying to him for protection against the brutal advances of Gunn, +found him lying in a heap behind the door of his small office, and in +her fear called loudly for assistance. A little knot of servants +collected, and stood regarding him stupidly. One made a brutal jest. +Gunn, pressing through the throng, turned the senseless body over with +his foot, and cursing vilely, ordered them to carry it upstairs. + +Until the surgeon came, Joan, kneeling by the bed, held on to the +senseless hand as her only protection against the evil faces of Gunn +and his protégés. Gunn himself was taken aback, the innkeeper’s death +at that time by no means suiting his aims. + +The surgeon was a man of few words and fewer attainments, but under his +ministrations the innkeeper, after a long interval, rallied. The +half-closed eyes opened, and he looked in a dazed fashion at his +surroundings. Gunn drove the servants away and questioned the man of +medicine. The answers were vague and interspersed with Latin. Freedom +from noise and troubles of all kinds was insisted upon and Joan was +installed as nurse, with a promise of speedy assistance. + +The assistance arrived late in the day in the shape of an elderly +woman, whose Spartan treatment of her patients had helped many along +the silent road. She commenced her reign by punching the sick man’s +pillows, and having shaken him into consciousness by this means, gave +him a dose of physic, after first tasting it herself from the bottle. + +After the first rally the innkeeper began to fail slowly. It was seldom +that he understood what was said to him, and pitiful to the beholder to +see in his intervals of consciousness his timid anxiety to earn the +good-will of the all-powerful Gunn. His strength declined until +assistance was needed to turn him in the bed, and his great sinewy +hands were forever trembling and fidgeting on the coverlet. + +Joan, pale with grief and fear, tended him assiduously. Her +stepfather’s strength had been a proverb in the town, and many a hasty +citizen had felt the strength of his arm. The increasing lawlessness of +the house filled her with dismay, and the coarse attentions of Gunn +became more persistent than ever. She took her meals in the sick-room, +and divided her time between that and her own. + +Gunn himself was in a dilemma. With Mullet dead, his power was at an +end and his visions of wealth dissipated. He resolved to feather his +nest immediately, and interviewed the surgeon. The surgeon was +ominously reticent, the nurse cheerfully ghoulish. + +“Four days I give him,” she said, calmly; “four blessed days, not but +what he might slip away at any moment.” + +Gunn let one day of the four pass, and then, choosing a time when Joan +was from the room, entered it for a little quiet conversation. The +innkeeper’s eyes were open, and, what was more to the purpose, +intelligent. + +“You’re cheating the hangman, after all,” snarled Gunn. “I’m off to +swear an information.” + +The other, by a great effort, turned his heavy head and fixed his +wistful eyes on him. + +“Mercy!” he whispered. “For her sake—give me—a little time!” + +“To slip your cable, I suppose,” quoth Gunn. “Where’s your money? +Where’s your hoard, you miser?” + +Mullet closed his eyes. He opened them again slowly and strove to +think, while Gunn watched him narrowly. When he spoke, his utterance +was thick and labored. + +“Come to-night,” he muttered, slowly. “Give me—time—I will make your +—your fortune. But the nurse-watches.” + +“I’ll see to her,” said Gunn, with a grin. “But tell me now, lest you +die first.” + +“You will—let Joan—have a share?” panted the innkeeper. + +“Yes, yes,” said Gunn, hastily. + +The innkeeper strove to raise himself in the bed, and then fell back +again exhausted as Joan’s step was heard on the stairs. Gunn gave a +savage glance of warning at him, and barring the progress of the girl +at the door, attempted to salute her. Joan came in pale and trembling, +and falling on her knees by the bedside, took her father’s hand in hers +and wept over it. The innkeeper gave a faint groan and a shiver ran +through his body. + +It was nearly an hour after midnight that Nick Gunn, kicking off his +shoes, went stealthily out onto the landing. A little light came from +the partly open door of the sick-room, but all else was in blackness. +He moved along and peered in. + +The nurse was siting in a high-backed oak chair by the fire. She had +slipped down in the seat, and her untidy head hung on her bosom. A +glass stood on the small oak table by her side, and a solitary candle +on the high mantel-piece diffused a sickly light. Gunn entered the +room, and finding that the sick man was dozing, shook him roughly. + +The innkeeper opened his eyes and gazed at him blankly. + +“Wake, you fool,” said Gunn, shaking him again. + +The other roused and muttered something incoherently. Then he stirred +slightly. + +“The nurse,” he whispered. + +“She’s safe enow,” said Gunn. “I’ve seen to that.” + +He crossed the room lightly, and standing before the unconscious woman, +inspected her closely and raised her in the chair. Her head fell limply +over the arm. + +“Dead?” inquired Mullet, in a fearful whisper. + +“Drugged,” said Gunn, shortly. “Now speak up, and be lively.” + +The innkeeper’s eyes again travelled in the direction of the nurse. + +“The men,” he whispered; “the servants.” + +“Dead drunk and asleep,” said Gunn, biting the words. “The last day +would hardly rouse them. Now will you speak, damn you!” + +“I must—take care—of Joan,” said the father. + +Gunn shook his clenched hand at him. + +“My money—is—is—” said the other. “Promise me on—your oath—Joan.” + +“Ay, ay,” growled Gunn; “how many more times? I’ll marry her, and she +shall have what I choose to give her. Speak up, you fool! It’s not for +you to make terms. Where is it?” + +He bent over, but Mullet, exhausted with his efforts, had closed his +eyes again, and half turned his head. + +“Where is it, damn you?” said Gunn, from between his teeth. + +Mullet opened his eyes again, glanced fearfully round the room, and +whispered. Gunn, with a stifled oath, bent his ear almost to his mouth, +and the next moment his neck was in the grip of the strongest man in +Riverstone, and an arm like a bar of iron over his back pinned him down +across the bed. + +“You _dog!_” hissed a fierce voice in his ear. “I’ve got you—Captain +Rogers at your service, and now you may tell his name to all you can. +Shout it, you spawn of hell. Shout it!” + +He rose in bed, and with a sudden movement flung the other over on his +back. Gunn’s eyes were starting from his head, and he writhed +convulsively. + +“I thought you were a sharper man, Gunn,” said Rogers, still in the +same hot whisper, as he relaxed his grip a little; “you are too simple, +you hound! When you first threatened me I resolved to kill you. Then +you threatened my daughter. I wish that you had nine lives, that I +might take them all. Keep still!” + +He gave a half-glance over his shoulder at the silent figure of the +nurse, and put his weight on the twisting figure on the bed. + +“You drugged the hag, good Gunn,” he continued. “To-morrow morning, +Gunn, they will find you in your room dead, and if one of the scum you +brought into my house be charged with the murder, so much the better. +When I am well they will go. I am already feeling a little bit +stronger, Gunn, as you see, and in a month I hope to be about again.” + +He averted his face, and for a time gazed sternly and watchfully at the +door. Then he rose slowly to his feet, and taking the dead man in his +arms, bore him slowly and carefully to his room, and laid him a huddled +heap on the floor. Swiftly and noiselessly he put the dead man’s shoes +on and turned his pockets inside out, kicked a rug out of place, and +put a guinea on the floor. Then he stole cautiously down stairs and set +a small door at the back open. A dog barked frantically, and he hurried +back to his room. The nurse still slumbered by the fire. + +She awoke in the morning shivering with the cold, and being jealous of +her reputation, rekindled the fire, and measuring out the dose which +the invalid should have taken, threw it away. On these unconscious +preparations for an alibi Captain Rogers gazed through half-closed +lids, and then turning his grim face to the wall, waited for the +inevitable alarm. + + + + +A TIGER’S SKIN + + +The travelling sign-painter who was repainting the sign of the +“Cauliflower” was enjoying a well-earned respite from his labours. On +the old table under the shade of the elms mammoth sandwiches and a +large slice of cheese waited in an untied handkerchief until such time +as his thirst should be satisfied. At the other side of the table the +oldest man in Claybury, drawing gently at a long clay pipe, turned a +dim and regretful eye up at the old signboard. + +“I’ve drunk my beer under it for pretty near seventy years,” he said, +with a sigh. “It’s a pity it couldn’t ha’ lasted my time.” + +The painter, slowly pushing a wedge of sandwich into his mouth, +regarded him indulgently. + +“It’s all through two young gentlemen as was passing through ’ere a +month or two ago,” continued the old man; “they told Smith, the +landlord, they’d been looking all over the place for the ‘Cauliflower,’ +and when Smith showed ’em the sign they said they thought it was the +‘George the Fourth,’ and a very good likeness, too.” + +The painter laughed and took another look at the old sign; then, with +the nervousness of the true artist, he took a look at his own. One or +two shadows— + +He flung his legs over the bench and took up his brushes. In ten +minutes the most fervent loyalist would have looked in vain for any +resemblance, and with a sigh at the pitfalls which beset the artist he +returned to his interrupted meal and hailed the house for more beer. + +“There’s nobody could mistake your sign for anything but a +cauliflower,” said the old man; “it looks good enough to eat.” + +The painter smiled and pushed his mug across the table. He was a +tender-hearted man, and once—when painting the sign of the “Sir Wilfrid +Lawson”—knew himself what it was to lack beer. He began to discourse on +art, and spoke somewhat disparagingly of the cauliflower as a subject. +With a shake of his head he spoke of the possibilities of a spotted cow +or a blue lion. + +“Talking of lions,” said the ancient, musingly, “I s’pose as you never +’eard tell of the Claybury tiger? It was afore your time in these +parts, I expect.” + +The painter admitted his ignorance, and, finding that the allusion had +no reference to an inn, pulled out his pipe and prepared to listen. + +“It’s a while ago now,” said the old man, slowly, “and the circus the +tiger belonged to was going through Claybury to get to Wickham, when, +just as they was passing Gill’s farm, a steam-ingine they ’ad to draw +some o’ the vans broke down, and they ’ad to stop while the blacksmith +mended it. That being so, they put up a big tent and ’ad the circus +’ere. + +“I was one o’ them as went, and I must say it was worth the money, +though Henry Walker was disappointed at the man who put ’is ’ead in the +lion’s mouth. He said that the man frightened the lion first, before ’e +did it. + +“It was a great night for Claybury, and for about a week nothing else +was talked of. All the children was playing at being lions and tigers +and such-like, and young Roberts pretty near broke ’is back trying to +see if he could ride horseback standing up. + +“It was about two weeks after the circus ’ad gone when a strange thing +’appened: the big tiger broke loose. Bill Chambers brought the news +first, ’aving read it in the newspaper while ’e was ’aving his tea. He +brought out the paper and showed us, and soon after we ’eard all sorts +o’ tales of its doings. + +“At first we thought the tiger was a long way off, and we was rather +amused at it. Frederick Scott laughed ’imself silly a’most up ’ere one +night thinking ’ow surprised a man would be if ’e come ’ome one night +and found the tiger sitting in his armchair eating the baby. It didn’t +seem much of a laughing matter to me, and I said so; none of us liked +it, and even Sam Jones, as ’ad got twins for the second time, said +‘Shame!’ But Frederick Scott was a man as would laugh at anything. + +“When we ’eard that the tiger ’ad been seen within three miles of +Claybury things began to look serious, and Peter Gubbins said that +something ought to be done, but before we could think of anything to do +something ’appened. + +“We was sitting up ’ere one evening ’aving a mug o’ beer and a +pipe—same as I might be now if I’d got any baccy left—and talking about +it, when we ’eard a shout and saw a ragged-looking tramp running toward +us as ’ard as he could run. Every now and then he’d look over ’is +shoulder and give a shout, and then run ’arder than afore. + +“‘It’s the _tiger!_’ ses Bill Chambers, and afore you could wink a’most +he was inside the house, ’aving first upset Smith and a pot o’ beer in +the doorway. + +“Before he could get up, Smith ’ad to wait till we was all in. His +langwidge was awful for a man as ’ad a license to lose, and everybody +shouting ‘Tiger!’ as they trod on ’im didn’t ease ’is mind. He was +inside a’most as soon as the last man, though, and in a flash he ’ad +the door bolted just as the tramp flung ’imself agin it, all out of +breath and sobbing ’is hardest to be let in. + +“‘Open the door,’ he ses, banging on it. + +“‘Go away,’ ses Smith. + +“‘It’s the tiger,’ screams the tramp; ‘open the door.’ + +“‘You go away,’ ses Smith, ‘you’re attracting it to my place; run up +the road and draw it off.’” + +“Just at that moment John Biggs, the blacksmith, come in from the +taproom, and as soon as he ’eard wot was the matter ’e took down +Smith’s gun from behind the bar and said he was going out to look after +the wimmen and children. + +“‘Open the door,’ he ses. + +“He was trying to get out and the tramp outside was trying to get in, +but Smith held on to that door like a Briton. Then John Biggs lost ’is +temper, and he ups with the gun—Smith’s own gun, mind you—and fetches +’im a bang over the ’ead with it. Smith fell down at once, and afore we +could ’elp ourselves the door was open, the tramp was inside, and John +Biggs was running up the road, shouting ’is hardest. + +“We ’ad the door closed afore you could wink a’most, and then, while +the tramp lay in a corner ’aving brandy, Mrs. Smith got a bowl of water +and a sponge and knelt down bathing ’er husband’s ’ead with it. + +“‘Did you see the tiger?’ ses Bill Chambers. + +“‘See it?’ ses the tramp, with a shiver. ‘Oh, Lord!’ + +“He made signs for more brandy, and Henery Walker, wot was acting as +landlord, without being asked, gave it to ’im. + +“‘It chased me for over a mile,’ ses the tramp; ‘my ’eart’s breaking.’ + +“He gave a groan and fainted right off. A terrible faint it was, too, +and for some time we thought ’ed never come round agin. First they +poured brandy down ’is throat, then gin, and then beer, and still ’e +didn’t come round, but lay quiet with ’is eyes closed and a horrible +smile on ’is face. + +“He come round at last, and with nothing stronger than water, which +Mrs. Smith kept pouring into ’is mouth. First thing we noticed was that +the smile went, then ’is eyes opened, and suddenly ’e sat up with a +shiver and gave such a dreadful scream that we thought at first the +tiger was on top of us. + +“Then ’e told us ’ow he was sitting washing ’is shirt in a ditch, when +he ’eard a snuffling noise and saw the ’ead of a big tiger sticking +through the hedge the other side. He left ’is shirt and ran, and ’e +said that, fortunately, the tiger stopped to tear the shirt to pieces, +else ’is last hour would ’ave arrived. + +“When ’e ’ad finished Smith went upstairs and looked out of the bedroom +winders, but ’e couldn’t see any signs of the tiger, and ’e said no +doubt it ’ad gone down to the village to see wot it could pick up, or +p’raps it ’ad eaten John Biggs. + +“However that might be, nobody cared to go outside to see, and after it +got dark we liked going ’ome less than ever. + +“Up to ten o’clock we did very well, and then Smith began to talk about +’is license. He said it was all rubbish being afraid to go ’ome, and +that, at any rate, the tiger couldn’t eat more than one of us, and +while ’e was doing that there was the chance for the others to get ’ome +safe. Two or three of ’em took a dislike to Smith that night and told +’im so. + +“The end of it was we all slept in the tap-room that night. It seemed +strange at first, but anything was better than going ’ome in the dark, +and we all slept till about four next morning, when we woke up and +found the tramp ’ad gone and left the front door standing wide open. + +“We took a careful look-out, and by-and-by first one started off and +then another to see whether their wives and children ’ad been eaten or +not. Not a soul ’ad been touched, but the wimmen and children was that +scared there was no doing anything with ’em. None o’ the children would +go to school, and they sat at ’ome all day with the front winder +blocked up with a mattress to keep the tiger out. + +“Nobody liked going to work, but it ’ad to be done and as Farmer Gill +said that tigers went to sleep all day and only came out toward evening +we was a bit comforted. Not a soul went up to the ‘Cauliflower’ that +evening for fear of coming ’ome in the dark, but as nothing ’appened +that night we began to ’ope as the tiger ’ad travelled further on. + +“Bob Pretty laughed at the whole thing and said ’e didn’t believe there +was a tiger; but nobody minded wot ’e said, Bob Pretty being, as I’ve +often told people, the black sheep o’ Claybury, wot with poaching and, +wot was worse, ’is artfulness. + +“But the very next morning something ’appened that made Bob Pretty look +silly and wish ’e ’adn’t talked quite so fast; for at five o’clock +Frederick Scott, going down to feed ’is hins, found as the tiger ’ad +been there afore ’im and ’ad eaten no less than seven of ’em. The side +of the hin-’ouse was all broke in, there was a few feathers lying on +the ground, and two little chicks smashed and dead beside ’em. + +“The way Frederick Scott went on about it you’d ’ardly believe. He said +that Govinment ’ud ’ave to make it up to ’im, and instead o’ going to +work ’e put the two little chicks and the feathers into a pudding basin +and walked to Cudford, four miles off, where they ’ad a policeman. + +“He saw the policeman, William White by name, standing at the back door +of the ‘Fox and Hounds’ public house, throwing a ’andful o’ corn to the +landlord’s fowls, and the first thing Mr. White ses was, ‘it’s off my +beat,’ he ses. + +“‘But you might do it in your spare time, Mr. White,’ ses Frederick +Scott. It’s very likely that the tiger’ll come back to my hin ’ouse for +the rest of ’em, and he’d be very surprised if ’e popped ’is ’ead in +and see you there waiting for ’im.’ + +“He’d ’ave reason to be,’ ses Policeman White, staring at ’im. + +“‘Think of the praise you’d get,’ said Frederick Scott, coaxing like. + +“‘Look ’ere,’ ses Policeman White, ‘if you don’t take yourself and that +pudding basin off pretty quick, you’ll come along o’ me, d’ye see? +You’ve been drinking and you’re in a excited state.’ + +“He gave Frederick Scott a push and follered ’im along the road, and +every time Frederick stopped to ask ’im wot ’e was doing of ’e gave ’im +another push to show ’im. + +“Frederick Scott told us all about it that evening, and some of the +bravest of us went up to the ‘Cauliflower’ to talk over wot was to be +done, though we took care to get ’ome while it was quite light. That +night Peter Gubbins’s two pigs went. They were two o’ the likeliest +pigs I ever seed, and all Peter Gubbins could do was to sit up in bed +shivering and listening to their squeals as the tiger dragged ’em off. +Pretty near all Claybury was round that sty next morning looking at the +broken fence. Some of them looked for the tiger’s footmarks, but it was +dry weather and they couldn’t see any. Nobody knew whose turn it would +be next, and the most sensible man there, Sam Jones, went straight off +’ome and killed his pig afore ’e went to work. + +“Nobody knew what to do; Farmer Hall said as it was a soldier’s job, +and ’e drove over to Wickham to tell the police so, but nothing came of +it, and that night at ten minutes to twelve Bill Chambers’s pig went. +It was one o’ the biggest pigs ever raised in Claybury, but the tiger +got it off as easy as possible. Bill ’ad the bravery to look out of the +winder when ’e ’eard the pig squeal, but there was such a awful +snarling noise that ’e daresn’t move ’and or foot. + +“Dicky Weed’s idea was for people with pigs and such-like to keep ’em +in the house of a night, but Peter Gubbins and Bill Chambers both +pointed out that the tiger could break a back door with one blow of ’is +paw, and that if ’e got inside he might take something else instead o’ +pig. And they said that it was no worse for other people to lose pigs +than wot it was for them. + +“The odd thing about it was that all this time nobody ’ad ever seen the +tiger except the tramp and people sent their children back to school +agin and felt safe going about in the daytime till little Charlie +Gubbins came running ’ome crying and saying that ’e’d seen it. Next +morning a lot more children see it and was afraid to go to school, and +people began to wonder wot ’ud happen when all the pigs and poultry was +eaten. + +“Then Henery Walker see it. We was sitting inside ’ere with scythes, +and pitchforks, and such-like things handy, when we see ’im come in +without ’is hat. His eyes were staring and ’is hair was all rumpled. He +called for a pot o’ ale and drank it nearly off, and then ’e sat +gasping and ’olding the mug between ’is legs and shaking ’is ’ead at +the floor till everybody ’ad left off talking to look at ’im. + +“‘Wot’s the matter, Henery?’ ses one of ’em. + +“‘Don’t ask me,’ ses Henery Walker, with a shiver. + +“‘You don’t mean to say as ’ow you’ve seen the tiger?” ses Bill +Chambers. + +“Henery Walker didn’t answer ’im. He got up and walked back’ards and +for’ards, still with that frightened look in ’is eyes, and once or +twice ’e give such a terrible start that ’e frightened us ’arf out of +our wits. Then Bill Chambers took and forced ’im into a chair and give +’im two o’ gin and patted ’im on the back, and at last Henery Walker +got ’is senses back agin and told us ’ow the tiger ’ad chased ’im all +round and round the trees in Plashett’s Wood until ’e managed to climb +up a tree and escape it. He said the tiger ’ad kept ’im there for over +an hour, and then suddenly turned round and bolted off up the road to +Wickham. + +“It was a merciful escape, and everybody said so except Sam Jones, and +’e asked so many questions that at last Henery Walker asked ’im +outright if ’e disbelieved ’is word. + +“‘It’s all right, Sam,’ ses Bob Pretty, as ’ad come in just after +Henery Walker. ‘I see ’im with the tiger after ’im.’ + +“‘Wot?’ ses Henery, staring at him. + +“‘I see it all, Henery,’ ses Bob Pretty, ‘and I see your pluck. It was +all you could do to make up your mind to run from it. I believe if +you’d ’ad a fork in your ‘and you’d ’ave made a fight for it.” + +“Everybody said ‘Bravo!’; but Henery Walker didn’t seem to like it at +all. He sat still, looking at Bob Pretty, and at last ’e ses, ‘Where +was you?’ ’e s,es. + +“‘Up another tree, Henery, where you couldn’t see me,’ ses Bob Pretty, +smiling at ’im. + +“Henery Walker, wot was drinking some beer, choked a bit, and then ’e +put the mug down and went straight off ’ome without saying a word to +anybody. I knew ’e didn’t like Bob Pretty, but I couldn’t see why ’e +should be cross about ’is speaking up for ’im as ’e had done, but Bob +said as it was ’is modesty, and ’e thought more of ’im for it. + +“After that things got worse than ever; the wimmen and children stayed +indoors and kept the doors shut, and the men never knew when they went +out to work whether they’d come ’ome agin. They used to kiss their +children afore they went out of a morning, and their wives too, some of +’em; even men who’d been married for years did. And several more of ’em +see the tiger while they was at work, and came running ’ome to tell +about it. + +“The tiger ’ad been making free with Claybury pigs and such-like for +pretty near a week, and nothing ’ad been done to try and catch it, and +wot made Claybury men madder than anything else was folks at Wickham +saying it was all a mistake, and the tiger ’adn’t escaped at all. Even +parson, who’d been away for a holiday, said so, and Henery Walker told +’is wife that if she ever set foot inside the church agin ’ed ask ’is +old mother to come and live with ’em. + +“It was all very well for parson to talk, but the very night he come +back Henery Walker’s pig went, and at the same time George Kettle lost +five or six ducks. + +“He was a quiet man, was George, but when ’is temper was up ’e didn’t +care for anything. Afore he came to Claybury ’e ’ad been in the +Militia, and that evening at the ‘Cauliflower’ ’e turned up with a gun +over ’is shoulder and made a speech, and asked who was game to go with +’im and hunt the tiger. Bill Chambers, who was still grieving after ’is +pig, said ’e would, then another man offered, until at last there was +seventeen of ’em. Some of ’em ’ad scythes and some pitchforks, and one +or two of ’em guns, and it was one o’ the finest sights I ever seed +when George Kettle stood ’em in rows of four and marched ’em off. + +“They went straight up the road, then across Farmer Gill’s fields to +get to Plashett’s wood, where they thought the tiger ’ud most likely +be, and the nearer they got to the wood the slower they walked. The sun +’ad just gone down and the wood looked very quiet and dark, but John +Biggs, the blacksmith, and George Kettle walked in first and the others +follered, keeping so close together that Sam Jones ’ad a few words over +his shoulder with Bill Chambers about the way ’e was carrying ’is +pitchfork. + +“Every now and then somebody ’ud say, ‘_Wot’s that!_’ and they’d all +stop and crowd together and think the time ’ad come, but it ’adn’t, and +then they’d go on agin, trembling, until they’d walked all round the +wood without seeing anything but one or two rabbits. John Biggs and +George Kettle wanted for to stay there till it was dark, but the others +wouldn’t ’ear of it for fear of frightening their wives, and just as it +was getting dark they all come tramp, tramp, back to the ‘Cauliflower’ +agin. + +“Smith stood ’em ’arf a pint apiece, and they was all outside ’ere +fancying theirselves a bit for wot they’d done when we see old man +Parsley coming along on two sticks as fast as ’e could come. + +“‘Are you brave lads a-looking for the tiger?’ he asks. + +“‘Yes,’ ses John Biggs. + +“‘Then ’urry up, for the sake of mercy,’ ses old Mr. Parsley, putting +’is ’and on the table and going off into a fit of coughing; ‘it’s just +gone into Bob Pretty’s cottage. I was passing and saw it.’ + +“George Kettle snatches up ’is gun and shouts out to ’is men to come +along. Some of ’em was for ’anging back at first, some because they +didn’t like the tiger and some because they didn’t like Bob Pretty, but +John Biggs drove ’em in front of ’im like a flock o’ sheep and then +they gave a cheer and ran after George Kettle, full pelt up the road. + +“A few wimmen and children was at their doors as they passed, but they +took fright and went indoors screaming. There was a lamp in Bob +Pretty’s front room, but the door was closed and the ’ouse was silent +as the grave. + +“George Kettle and the men with the guns went first, then came the +pitchforks, and last of all the scythes. Just as George Kettle put ’is +’and on the door he ’eard something moving inside, and the next moment +the door opened and there stood Bob Pretty. + +“‘What the dickens!’ ’e ses, starting back as ’e see the guns and +pitchforks pointing at ’im. + +“‘’Ave you killed it, Bob?’ ses George Kettle. + +“‘Killed _wot?_’ ses Bob Pretty. ‘Be careful o’ them guns. Take your +fingers off the triggers.’ + +“‘The tiger’s in your ’ouse, Bob,’ ses George Kettle, in a whisper. +‘’Ave you on’y just come in?’ + +“‘Look ’ere,’ ses Bob Pretty. ‘I don’t want any o’ your games. You go +and play ’em somewhere else.’ + +“‘It ain’t a game,’ ses John Biggs; ‘the tiger’s in your ’ouse and +we’re going to kill it. Now, then, lads.’ + +“They all went in in a ’eap, pushing Bob Pretty in front of ’em, till +the room was full. Only one man with a scythe got in, and they wouldn’t +’ave let ’im in if they’d known. It a’most made ’em forget the tiger +for the time. + +“George Kettle opened the door wot led into the kitchen, and then ’e +sprang back with such a shout that the man with the scythe tried to +escape, taking Henery Walker along with ’im. George Kettle tried to +speak, but couldn’t. All ’e could do was to point with ’is finger at +Bob Pretty’s kitchen—_and Bob Pretty’s kitchen was for all the world +like a pork-butcher’s shop_. There was joints o’ pork ’anging from the +ceiling, two brine tubs as full as they could be, and quite a string of +fowls and ducks all ready for market. + +“‘Wot d’ye mean by coming into my ’ouse?’ ses Bob Pretty, blustering. +‘If you don’t clear out pretty quick, I’ll make you.’ + +“Nobody answered ’im; they was all examining ’ands o’ pork and fowls +and such-like. + +“‘There’s the tiger,’ ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; +‘that’s wot old man Parsley meant.’ + +“‘Somebody go and fetch Policeman White,’ ses a voice. + +“‘I wish they would,’ ses Bob Pretty. ‘I’ll ’ave the law on you all for +breaking into my ’ouse like this, see if I don’t.’ + +“‘Where’d you get all this pork from?’ ses the blacksmith. + +“‘And them ducks and hins?’ ses George Kettle. + +“‘That’s my bisness,’ ses Bob Pretty, staring ’em full in the face. ‘I +just ’ad a excellent oppertunity offered me of going into the pork and +poultry line and I took it. Now, all them as doesn’t want to buy any +pork or fowls go out o’ my house.’ + +“‘You’re a thief, Bob Pretty!’ says Henery Walker. ‘You stole it all.’ + +“‘Take care wot you’re saying, Henery,’ ses Bob Pretty, ‘else I’ll make +you prove your words.’ + +“‘You stole my pig,’ ses Herbert Smith. + +“‘Oh, ’ave I?’ ses Bob, reaching down a ’and o’ pork. ‘Is that your +pig?’ he ses. + +“‘It’s just about the size o’ my pore pig,’ ses Herbert Smith. + +“‘Very usual size, I call it,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘and them ducks and hins +very usual-looking hins and ducks, I call ’em, except that they don’t +grow ’em so fat in these parts. It’s a fine thing when a man’s doing a +honest bisness to ’ave these charges brought agin ’im. Dis’eartening, I +call it. I don’t mind telling you that the tiger got in at my back +winder the other night and took arf a pound o’ sausage, but you don’t +’ear me complaining and going about calling other people thieves.’ + +“‘Tiger be hanged,’ ses Henery Walker, who was almost certain that a +loin o’ pork on the table was off ’is pig; ‘you’re the only tiger in +these parts.’ + +“Why, Henery,’ ses Bob Pretty, ‘wot are you a-thinkin’ of? Where’s your +memory? Why, it’s on’y two or three days ago you see it and ’ad to get +up a tree out of its way.’ + +“He smiled and shook ’is ’ead at ’im, but Henery Walker on’y kept +opening and shutting ’is mouth, and at last ’e went outside without +saying a word. + +“‘And Sam Jones see it, too,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘didn’t you, Sam?’ + +“Sam didn’t answer ’im. + +“‘And Charlie Hall and Jack Minns and a lot more,’ ses Bob; ‘besides, I +see it myself. I can believe my own eyes, I s’pose?’ + +“‘We’ll have the law on you,’ ses Sam Jones. + +“‘As _you_ like,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘but I tell you plain, I’ve got all +the bills for this properly made out, upstairs. And there’s pretty near +a dozen of you as’ll ’ave to go in the box and swear as you saw the +tiger. Now, can I sell any of you a bit o’ pork afore you go? It’s +delicious eating, and as soon as you taste it you’ll know it wasn’t +grown in Claybury. Or a pair o’ ducks wot ’ave come from two ’undered +miles off, and yet look as fresh as if they was on’y killed last +night.’ + +“George Kettle, whose ducks ’ad gone the night afore, went into the +front room and walked up and down fighting for ’is breath, but it was +all no good; nobody ever got the better o’ Bob Pretty. None of ’em +could swear to their property, and even when it became known a month +later that Bob Pretty and the tramp knew each other, nothing was done. +But nobody ever ’eard any more of the tiger from that day to this.” + + + + +A MIXED PROPOSAL + + +Major Brill, late of the Fenshire Volunteers, stood in front of the +small piece of glass in the hatstand, and with a firm and experienced +hand gave his new silk hat a slight tilt over the right eye. Then he +took his cane and a new pair of gloves, and with a military but squeaky +tread, passed out into the road. It was a glorious day in early autumn, +and the soft English landscape was looking its best, but despite the +fact that there was nothing more alarming in sight than a few cows on +the hillside a mile away, the Major paused at his gate, and his face +took on an appearance of the greatest courage and resolution before +proceeding. The road was dusty and quiet, except for the children +playing at cottage doors, and so hot that the Major, heedless of the +fact that he could not replace the hat at exactly the same angle, stood +in the shade of a tree while he removed it and mopped his heated brow. + +He proceeded on his way more leisurely, overtaking, despite his lack of +speed, another man who was walking still more slowly in the shade of +the hedge. + +“Fine day, Halibut,” he said, briskly; “fine day.” + +“Beautiful,” said the other, making no attempt to keep pace with him. + +“Country wants rain, though,” cried the Major over his shoulder. + +Halibut assented, and walking slowly on, wondered vaguely what gaudy +color it was that had attracted his eye. It dawned on him at length +that it must be the Major’s tie, and he suddenly quickened his pace, by +no means reassured as the man of war also quickened his. + +“Halloa, Brill!” he cried. “Half a moment.” + +The Major stopped and waited for his friend; Halibut eyed the tie +uneasily—it was fearfully and wonderfully made—but said nothing. + +“Well?” said the Major, somewhat sharply. + +“Oh—I was going to ask you, Brill—Confound it! I’ve forgotten what I +was going to say now. I daresay I shall soon think of it. You’re not in +a hurry?” + +“Well, I am, rather,” said Brill. “Fact is— Is my hat on straight, +Halibut?” + +The other assuring him that it was, the Major paused in his career, and +gripping the brim with both hands, deliberately tilted it over the +right eye again. + +“You were saying—” said Halibut, regarding this manoeuvre with secret +disapproval. + +“Yes,” murmured the Major, “I was saying. Well, I don’t mind telling an +old friend like you, Halibut, though it is a profound secret. Makes me +rather particular about my dress just now. Women notice these things. +I’m—sha’nt get much sympathy from a confirmed old bachelor like you—but +I’m on my way to put a very momentous question.” + +“The devil you are!” said the other, blankly. + +“Sir!” said the astonished Major. + +“Not Mrs. Riddel?” said Halibut. + +“Certainly, sir,” said the Major, stiffly. “Why not?” + +“Only that I am going on the same errand,” said the confirmed bachelor, +with desperate calmness. + +The Major looked at him, and for the first time noticed an unusual +neatness and dressiness in his friend’s attire. His collar was higher +than usual; his tie, of the whitest and finest silk, bore a pin he +never remembered to have seen before; and for the first time since he +had known him, the Major, with a strange sinking at the heart, saw that +he wore spats. + +“This is extraordinary,” he said, briefly. “Well, good-day, Halibut. +Can’t stop.” + +“Good-day,” said the other. + +The Major quickened his pace and shot ahead, and keeping in the shade +of the hedge, ground his teeth as the civilian on the other side of the +road slowly, but surely, gained on him. + +It became exciting. The Major was handicapped by his upright bearing +and short military stride; the other, a simple child of the city, bent +forward, swinging his arms and taking immense strides. At a by-lane +they picked up three small boys, who, trotting in their rear, made it +evident by their remarks that they considered themselves the privileged +spectators of a foot-race. The Major could stand it no longer, and with +a cut of his cane at the foremost boy, softly called a halt. + +“Well,” said Halibut, stopping. + +The man’s manner was suspicious, not to say offensive, and the other +had much ado to speak him fair. + +“This is ridiculous,” he said, trying to smile. “We can’t walk in and +propose in a duet. One of us must go to-day and the other to-morrow.” + +“Certainly,” said Halibut; “that’ll be the best plan.” + +“So childish,” said the Major, with a careless laugh, “two fellows +walking in hot and tired and proposing to her.” + +“Absurd,” replied Halibut, and both men eyed each other carefully. + +“So, if I’m unsuccessful, old chap,” said the Major, in a voice which +he strove to render natural and easy, “I will come straight back to +your place and let you know, so as not to keep you in suspense.” + +“You’re very good,” said Halibut, with some emotion; “but I think I’ll +take to-day, because I have every reason to believe that I have got one +of my bilious attacks coming on to-morrow.” + +“Pooh! fancy, my dear fellow,” said the Major, heartily; “I never saw +you look better in my life.” + +“That’s one of the chief signs,” replied Halibut, shaking his head. +“I’m afraid I must go to-day.” + +“I really cannot waive my right on account of your bilious attack,” +said the Major haughtily. + +“Your _right?_” said Halibut, with spirit. + +“My right!” repeated the other. “I should have been there before you if +you had not stopped me in the first place.” + +“But I started first,” said Halibut. + +“Prove it,” exclaimed the Major, warmly. + +The other shrugged his shoulders. + +“I shall certainly not give way,” he said, calmly. “This is a matter in +which my whole future is concerned. It seems very odd, not to say +inconvenient, that you should have chosen the same day as myself, +Brill, for such an errand—very odd.” + +“It’s quite an accident,” asseverated the Major; “as a matter of fact, +Halibut, I nearly went yesterday. That alone gives me, I think, some +claim to precedence.” + +“Just so,” said Halibut, slowly; “it constitutes an excellent claim.” + +The Major regarded him with moistening eyes. This was generous and +noble. His opinion of Halibut rose. “And now you have been so frank +with me,” said the latter, “it is only fair that you should know I +started out with the same intention three days ago and found her out. +So far as claims go, I think mine leads.” + +“Pure matter of opinion,” said the disgusted Major; “it really seems as +though we want an arbitrator. Well, we’ll have to make our call +together, I suppose, but I’ll take care not to give you any +opportunity, Halibut, so don’t cherish any delusions on that point. +Even _you_ wouldn’t have the hardihood to propose before a third party, +I should think; but if you do, I give you fair warning that I shall +begin, too.” + +“This is most unseemly,” said Halibut. “We’d better both go home and +leave it for another day.” + +“When do you propose going, then?” asked the Major. + +“Really, I haven’t made up my mind,” replied the other. + +The Major shrugged his shoulders. + +“It won’t do, Halibut,” he said, grimly; “it won’t do. I’m too old a +soldier to be caught that way.” + +There was a long pause. The Major mopped his brow again. “I’ve got it,” +he said at last. + +Halibut looked at him curiously. + +“We must play for first proposal,” said the Major, firmly. “We’re +pretty evenly matched.” + +“Chess?” gasped the other, a whole world of protest in his tones. + +“Chess,” repeated the Major. + +“It is hardly respectful,” demurred Halibut. “What do you think the +lady would do if she heard of it?” + +“Laugh,” replied the Major, with conviction. + +“I believe she would,” said the other, brightening. “I believe she +would.” + +“You agree, then?” + +“With conditions.” + +“Conditions?” repeated the Major. + +“One game,” said Halibut, speaking very slowly and distinctly; “and if +the winner is refused, the loser not to propose until he gives him +permission.” + +“What the deuce for?” inquired the other, suspiciously. + +“Suppose I win,” replied Halibut, with suspicious glibness, “and was so +upset that I had one of my bilious attacks come on, where should I be? +Why, I might have to break off in the middle and go home. A fellow +can’t propose when everything in the room is going round and round.” + +“I don’t think you ought to contemplate marriage, Halibut,” remarked +the Major, very seriously and gently. + +“Thanks,” said Halibut, dryly. + +“Very well,” said the Major, “I agree to the conditions. Better come to +my place and we’ll decide it now. If we look sharp, the winner may be +able to know his fate to-day, after all.” + +Halibut assenting, they walked back together. The feverish joy of the +gambler showed in the Major’s eye as they drew their chairs up to the +little antique chess table and began to place their pieces ready for +the fray. Then a thought struck him, and he crossed over to the +sideboard. + +“If you’re feeling a bit off colour, Halibut,” he said, kindly, “you’d +better have a little brandy to pull yourself together. I don’t wish to +take a mean advantage.” + +“You’re very good,” said the other, as he eyed the noble measure of +liquid poured out by his generous adversary. + +“And now to business,” said the Major, as he drew himself a little soda +from a siphon. + +“Now to business,” repeated Halibut, rising and placing his glass on +the mantel-piece. + +The Major struggled fiercely with his feelings, but, despite himself, a +guilty blush lent colour to the other’s unfounded suspicions. + +“Remember the conditions,” said Halibut, impressively. + +“Here’s my hand on it,” said the other, reaching over. + +Halibut took it, and, his thoughts being at the moment far away, gave +it a tender, respectful squeeze. The Major stared and coughed. It was +suggestive of practice. + +If the history of the duel is ever written, it will be found not +unworthy of being reckoned with the most famous combats of ancient +times. Piece after piece was removed from the board, and the Major +drank glass after glass of soda to cool his heated brain. At the second +glass Halibut took an empty tumbler and helped himself. Suddenly there +was a singing in the Major’s ears, and a voice, a hateful, triumphant +voice, said, + +“Checkmate!” + +Then did his gaze wander from knight to bishop and bishop to castle in +a vain search for succour. There was his king defied by a bishop—a +bishop which had been hobnobbing with pawns in one corner of the board, +and which he could have sworn he had captured and removed full twenty +minutes before. He mentioned this impression to Halibut. + +“That was the other one,” said his foe. “I thought you had forgotten +this. I have been watching and hoping so for the last half-hour.” + +There was no disguising the coarse satisfaction of the man. He had +watched and hoped. Not beaten him, so the Major told himself, in fair +play, but by taking a mean and pitiful advantage of a pure oversight. A +sheer oversight. He admitted it. + +Halibut rose with a sigh of relief, and the Major, mechanically +sweeping up the pieces, dropped them one by one into the box. + +“Plenty of time,” said the victor, glancing at the clock. “I shall go +now, but I should like a wash first.” + +The Major rose, and in his capacity of host led the way upstairs to his +room, and poured fresh water for his foe. Halibut washed himself +delicately, carefully trimming his hair and beard, and anxiously +consulting the Major as to the set of his coat in the back, after he +had donned it again. + +His toilet completed, he gave a satisfied glance in the glass, and then +followed the man of war sedately down stairs. At the hall he paused, +and busied himself with the clothes-brush and hat-pad, modestly +informing his glaring friend that he could not afford to throw any +chances away, and then took his departure. + +The Major sat up late that night waiting for news, but none came, and +by breakfast-time next morning his thirst for information became almost +uncontrollable. He toyed with a chop and allowed his coffee to get +cold. Then he clapped on his hat and set off to Halibut’s to know the +worst. + +“Well?” he inquired, as he followed the other into his dining-room. + +“I went,” said Halibut, waving him to a chair. + +“Am I to congratulate you?” + +“Well, I don’t know,” was the reply; “perhaps not just yet.” + +“What do you mean by that?” said the Major, irascibly. + +“Well, as a matter of fact,” said Halibut, “she refused me, but so +nicely and so gently that I scarcely minded it. In fact, at first I +hardly realized that she had refused me.” + +The Major rose, and regarding his poor friend kindly, shook and patted +him lightly on the shoulder. + +“She’s a splendid woman,” said Halibut. “Ornament to her sex,” remarked +the Major. + +“So considerate,” murmured the bereaved one. + +“Good women always are,” said the Major, decisively. “I don’t think I’d +better worry her to-day, Halibut, do you?” + +“No, I don’t,” said Halibut, stiffly. + +“I’ll try my luck to-morrow,” said the Major. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Halibut. + +“Eh?” said the Major, trying to look puzzled. + +“You are forgetting the conditions of the game,” replied Halibut. “You +have to obtain my permission first.” + +“Why, my dear fellow,” said the Major, with a boisterous laugh. “I +wouldn’t insult you by questioning your generosity in such a case. No, +no, Halibut, old fellow, I know you too well.” + +He spoke with feeling, but there was an anxious note in his voice. + +“We must abide by the conditions,” said Halibut, slowly; “and I must +inform you, Brill, that I intend to renew the attack myself.” + +“Then, sir,” said the Major, fuming, “you compel me to say—putting all +modesty aside—that I believe the reason Mrs. Riddel would have nothing +to do with you was because she thought _somebody else_ might make a +similar offer.” + +“That’s what I thought,” said Halibut, simply; “but you see now that +you have so unaccountably—so far as Mrs. Riddel is concerned—dropped +out of the running, perhaps, if I am gently persistent, she’ll take +me.” + +The Major rose and glared at him. + +“If you don’t take care, old chap,” said Halibut, tenderly, “you’ll +burst something.” + +“Gently persistent,” repeated the Major, staring at him; “gently +persistent.” + +“Remember Bruce and his spider,” smiled the other. + +“You are _not_ going to propose to that poor woman nine times?” roared +his incensed friend. + +“I hope that it will not be necessary,” was the reply; “but if it is, I +can assure you, my dear Brill, that I’m not going to be outclassed by a +mere spider.” + +“But think of her feelings!” gasped the Major. + +“I have,” was the reply; “and I’m sure she’ll thank me for it +afterward. You see, Brill, you and I are the only eligibles in the +place, and now you are out of it, she’s sure to take me sooner or +later.” + +“And pray how long am I to wait?” demanded the Major, controlling +himself with difficulty. + +“I can’t say,” said Halibut; “but I don’t think it’s any good your +waiting at all, because if I see any signs that Mrs. Riddel is waiting +for you I may just give her a hint of the hopelessness of it.” + +“You’re a perfect Mephistopheles, sir!” bawled the indignant Major. +Halibut bowed. + +“Strategy, my dear Brill,” he said, smiling; “strategy. Now why waste +your time? Why not make some other woman happy? Why not try her +companion, Miss Philpotts? I’m sure any little assistance—” + +The Major’s attitude was so alarming that the sentence was never +finished, and a second later the speaker found himself alone, watching +his irate friend hurrying frantically down the path, knocking the +blooms off the geraniums with his cane as he went. He saw no more of +him for several weeks, the Major preferring to cherish his resentment +in the privacy of his house. The Major also refrained from seeing the +widow, having a wholesome dread as to what effect the contemplation of +her charms might have upon his plighted word. + +He met her at last by chance. Mrs. Riddel bowed coldly and would have +passed on, but the Major had already stopped, and was making wild and +unmerited statements about the weather. + +“It is seasonable,” she said, simply. + +The Major agreed with her, and with a strong-effort regained his +composure. + +“I was just going to turn back,” he said, untruthfully; “may I walk +with you?” + +“I am not going far,” was the reply. + +With soldierly courage the Major took this as permission; with feminine +precision Mrs. Riddel walked about fifty yards and then stopped. “I +told you I wasn’t going far,” she said sweetly, as she held out her +hand. “Goodby.” + +“I wanted to ask you something,” said the Major, turning with her. “I +can’t think what it was. + +They walked on very slowly, the Major’s heart beating rapidly as he +told himself that the lady’s coldness was due to his neglect of the +past few weeks, and his wrath against Halibut rose to still greater +heights as he saw the cruel position in which that schemer had placed +him. Then he made a sudden resolution. There was no condition as to +secrecy, and, first turning the conversation on to indoor amusements, +he told the astonished Mrs. Riddel the full particulars of the fatal +game. Mrs. Riddel said that she would never forgive them; it was the +most preposterous thing she had ever heard of. And she demanded hotly +whether she was to spend the rest of her life in refusing Mr. Halibut. + +“Do you play high as a rule?” she inquired, scornfully. + +“Sixpence a game,” replied the Major, simply. + +The corners of Mrs. Riddel’s mouth relaxed, and her fine eyes began to +water; then she turned her head away and laughed. “It was very foolish +of us, I admit,” said the Major, ruefully, “and very wrong. I shouldn’t +have told you, only I couldn’t explain my apparent neglect without.” + +“Apparent neglect?” repeated the widow, somewhat haughtily. + +“Well, put it down to a guilty conscience,” said the Major; “it seems +years to me since I have seen you.” + +“Remember the conditions, Major Brill,” said Mrs. Riddel, with +severity. + +“I shall not transgress them,” replied the Major, seriously. + +Mrs. Riddel gave her head a toss, and regarded him from the corner of +her eyes. + +“I am very angry with you, indeed,” she said, severely. The Major +apologized again. “For losing,” added the lady, looking straight before +her. + +Major Brill caught his breath and his knees trembled beneath him. He +made a half-hearted attempt to seize her hand, and then remembering his +position, sighed deeply and looked straight before him. They walked on +in silence. + +“I think,” said his companion at last, “that, if you like, you can get +back at cribbage what you lost at chess. That is, of course, if you +really want to.” + +“He wouldn’t play,” said the Major, shaking his head. + +“No, but I will,” said Mrs. Riddel, with a smile. “I think I’ve got a +plan.” + +She blushed charmingly, and then, in modest alarm at her boldness, +dropped her voice almost to a whisper. The Major gazed at her in +speechless admiration and threw back his head in ecstasy. “Come round +to-morrow afternoon,” said Mrs. Riddel, pausing at the end of the lane. +“Mr. Halibut shall be there, too, and it shall be done under his very +eyes.” + +Until that time came the Major sat at home carefully rehearsing his +part, and it was with an air of complacent virtue that he met the +somewhat astonished gaze of the persistent Halibut next day. It was a +bright afternoon, but they sat indoors, and Mrs. Riddel, after an +animated description of a game at cribbage with Miss Philpotts the +night before, got the cards out and challenged Halibut to a game. + +They played two, both of which the diplomatic Halibut lost; then Mrs. +Riddel, dismissing him as incompetent, sat drumming on the table with +her fingers, and at length challenged the Major. She lost the first +game easily, and began the second badly. Finally, after hastily +glancing at a new hand, she flung the cards petulantly on the table, +face downward. + +“Would you like my hand, Major Brill?” she demanded, with a blush. + +“Better than anything in the world,” cried the Major, eagerly. + +Halibut started, and Miss Philpotts nearly had an accident with her +crochet hook. The only person who kept cool was Mrs. Riddel, and it was +quite clear to the beholders that she had realized neither the +ambiguity of her question nor the meaning of her opponent’s reply. + +“Well, you may have it,” she said, brightly. + +Before Miss Philpotts could lay down her work, before Mr. Halibut could +interpose, the Major took possession of Mrs. Riddel’s small white hand +and raised it gallantly to his lips. Mrs. Riddel, with a faint scream +which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand +away. “I meant my hand of cards,” she said, breathlessly. + +“Really, Brill, really,” said Halibut, stepping forward fussily. + +“Oh!” said the Major, blankly; “cards!” + +“That’s what I meant, of course,” said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself +with a laugh. “I had no idea still—if you prefer—-” The Major took her +hand again, and Miss Philpotts set Mr. Halibut an example—which he did +not follow—by gazing meditatively out of the window. Finally she +gathered up her work and quitted the room. Mrs. Riddel smiled over at +Mr. Halibut and nodded toward the Major. + +[Illustration: “Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his +conclusions?”] + +“Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?” she +inquired, softly. + +“I’ll tell Major Brill what I think of him when I get him alone,” said +the injured gentleman, sourly. + + + + +AN ADULTERATION ACT + + +Dr. Frank Carson had been dreaming tantalizing dreams of cooling, +effervescent beverages. Over and over again in his dreams he had risen +from his bed, and tripping lightly down to the surgery in his pajamas, +mixed himself something long and cool and fizzy, without being able to +bring the dream to a satisfactory termination. + +With a sudden start he awoke. The thirst was still upon him; the +materials for quenching it, just down one flight of stairs. He would +have smacked his lips at the prospect if they had been moist enough to +smack; as it was, he pushed down the bedclothes, and throwing one leg +out of bed-became firmly convinced that he was still dreaming. + +For the atmosphere was stifling and odorous, and the ceiling descended +in an odd bulging curve to within a couple of feet of his head. Still +half asleep, he raised his fist and prodded at it in astonishment—a +feeling which gave way to one of stupefaction as the ceiling took +another shape and swore distinctly. + +“I _must_ be dreaming,” mused the doctor; “even the ceiling seems +alive.” + +He prodded it again-regarding it closely this time. The ceiling at once +rose to greater altitudes, and at the same moment an old face with +bushy whiskers crawled under the edge of it, and asked him profanely +what he meant by it. It also asked him whether he wanted something for +himself, because, if so, he was going the right way to work. + +“Where am I?” demanded the bewildered doctor. “_Mary! Mary!_” + +He started up in bed, and brought his head in sudden violent contact +with the ceiling. Then, before the indignant ceiling could carry out +its threat of a moment before, he slipped out of bed and stood on a +floor which was in its place one moment and somewhere else the next. + +In the smell of bilge-water, tar, and the foetid atmosphere generally +his clouded brain awoke to the fact that he was on board ship, but +resolutely declined to inform him how he got there. He looked down in +disgust at the ragged clothes which he had on in lieu of the usual +pajamas; and then, as events slowly pieced themselves together in his +mind, remembered, as the last thing that he could remember, that he had +warned his friend Harry Thomson, solicitor, that if he had any more to +drink it would not be good for him. + +He wondered dimly as he stood whether Thomson was there too, and +walking unsteadily round the forecastle, roused the sleepers, one by +one, and asked them whether they were Harry Thomson, all answering with +much fluency in the negative, until he came to one man who for some +time made no answer at all. + +The doctor shook him first and then punched him. Then he shook him +again and gave him little scientific slaps, until at length Harry +Thomson, in a far-away voice, said that he was all right. + +“Well, I’m glad I’m not alone,” said the doctor, selfishly. “_Harry! +Harry! Wake up!_” + +“All ri’!” said the sleeper; “I’m all ri’!” + +The doctor shook him again, and then rolled him backward and forward in +his bunk. Under this gentle treatment the solicitor’s faculties were +somewhat brightened, and, half opening his eyes, he punched viciously +at the disturber of his peace, until threatening voices from the gloom +promised to murder both of them. + +“Where are we?” demanded the doctor, of a deep voice from the other +side of the forecastle which had been particularly threatening. + +“Barque _Stella_, o’ course,” was the reply. “Where’d you think you +was?” + +The doctor gripped the edge of his friend’s bunk and tried to think; +then, a feeling of nausea overcoming all others, he clambered hurriedly +up the forecastle ladder and lurched to the side of the vessel. + +He leaned there for some time without moving, a light breeze cooling +his fevered brow, and a small schooner some little distance from them +playing seesaw, as he closed his eyes to the heaving blue sea. Land was +conspicuous by its absence, and with a groan he turned and looked about +him—at the white scrubbed deck, the snowy canvas towering aloft on +lazily creaking spars, and the steersman leaning against the wheel +regarding the officer who stood near by. + +Dr. Carson, feeling a little better, walked sternly aft, the officer +turning round and glancing in surprise at his rags as he approached. + +“I beg your pardon,” began the doctor, in superior tones. + +“And what the devil do you want?” demanded the second officer; “who +told you to come along here?” + +“I want to know what this means,” said the doctor, fiercely. “How dare +you kidnap us on your beastly bilge-tank?” + +“Man’s mad,” murmured the astonished second officer. + +“Insufferable outrage!” continued the doctor. “Take us back to +Melbourne at once.” + +“You get for’ard,” said the other sharply; “get for’ard, and don’t let +me have any more of your lip.” + +“I want to see the captain of this ship,” cried the doctor; “go and +fetch him at once.” + +[Illustration: He saw another tatterdemalion coming toward him.] + +The second officer gazed at him, limp with astonishment, and then +turned to the steersman, as though unable to believe his ears. The +steersman pointed in front of him, and the other gave a cry of surprise +and rage as he saw another tatterdemalion coming with uncertain steps +toward him. + +“Carson,” said the new arrival, feebly; and coming closer to his +friend, clung to him miserably. + +“I’m just having it out with ’em, Thomson,” said the doctor, +energetically. “My friend here is a solicitor. Tell him what’ll happen +if they don’t take us back, Harry.” + +“You seem to be unaware, my good fellow,” said the solicitor, covering +a large hole in the leg of his trousers with his hand, “of the very +dangerous situation in which you have placed yourselves. We have no +desire to be harsh with you—” + +“Not at all,” acquiesced the doctor, nodding at the second officer. + +“At the same time,” continued Mr. Thomson—“at the—” He let go his +friend’s arm and staggered away; the doctor gazed after him +sympathetically. + +“His digestion is not all it should be,” he said to the second officer, +confidentially. + +“If you don’t get for’ard in two twos,” said that gentleman, +explosively, “I’ll knock your heads off.” + +The doctor gazed at him in haughty disdain, and taking the limp Thomson +by the arm, led him slowly away. + +“How did we get here?” asked Mr. Harry Thomson, feebly. + +The doctor shook his head. + +“How did we get these disgusting clothes on?” continued his friend. + +The doctor shook his head again. “The last thing I can remember, +Harry,” he said, slowly, “was imploring you not to drink any more.” + +“I didn’t hear you,” said the solicitor, crustily; “your speech was +very indistinct last night.” + +“Seemed so to you, I dare say,” said the other. + +Mr. Thomson shook his arm off, and clinging to the mainmast, leaned his +cheek against it and closed his eyes. He opened them again at the sound +of voices, and drew himself up as he saw the second officer coming +along with a stern-visaged man of about fifty. + +“Are you the master of this vessel?” inquired the doctor, stepping to +his friend’s side. + +“What the blazes has that got to do with you?” demanded the skipper. +“Look here, my lads; don’t you play any of your little games on me, +because they won’t do. You’re both of you as drunk as owls.” + +“Defamation of character,” said the solicitor, feebly, to his friend. + +“Allow me,” said the doctor, with his best manner, “to inquire what all +this means. I am Dr. Frank Carson, of Melbourne; this gentleman is my +friend Mr. Thomson, of the same place, solicitor.” + +“_What?_” roared the skipper, the veins in his forehead standing out. +“Doctor! Solicitor! Why, you damned rascals, you shipped with me as +cook and A. B.” + +“There’s some mistake,” said the doctor. “I’m afraid I shall have to +ask you to take us back. I hope you haven’t come far.” + +“Take those scarecrows away,” cried the skipper, hoarsely; “take them +away before I do them a mischief. I’ll have the law of somebody for +shipping two useless lubbers as seamen. Look to me like pickpockets.” + +“You shall answer for this,” said Carson, foaming; “we’re professional +men, and we’re not going to be abused by a bargee.” + +“Let him talk,” said Mr. Thomson, hurriedly drawing his friend away +from the irate skipper. “Let him talk.” + +“I’ll put you both in quod when we get to Hong-kong,” said the skipper. +“Meantime, no work, no food; d’ye hear? Start and cook the breakfast, +Mr. Doctor; and you. Mr. Lawyer, turn to and ask the boy to teach you +an A. B’s duties.” + +He walked back to the cabin; and the new cook was slowly pushed toward +the galley by the second officer, the new A. B., under the same gentle +guidance, being conducted back to the forecastle. + +Fortunately for the new seamen the weather continued fine, but the heat +of the galley was declared by the new cook to be insupportable. From +the other hands they learned that they had been shipped with several +others by a resourceful boarding-house master. The other hands, being +men of plain speech, also said that they were brought aboard in a state +of beastly and enviable intoxication, and chaffed crudely when the +doctor attributed their apparent state of intoxication to drugs. + +[Illustration: “You say you’re a doctor?”] + +“You say you’re a doctor?” said the oldest seaman. + +“I am,” said Carson, fiercely. + +“Wot sort of a doctor are you, if you don’t know when your licker’s +been played with, then?” asked the old man, as a grin passed slowly +from mouth to mouth. + +“I suppose it is because I drink so seldom,” said the doctor, loftily. +“I hardly know the taste of liquor myself, while as for my friend Mr. +Thomson, you might almost call him a teetotaler. + +“Next door to one,” said the solicitor, who was sewing a patch on his +trousers, as he looked up approvingly. + +“You _might_ call ’im a sailor, if you liked,” said another seaman, +“but that wouldn’t make him one. All I can say is I never ’ad enough +time or money to get in the state you was both in when you come +aboard.” + +If the forecastle was incredulous, the cabin was worse. The officers at +first took but little notice of them, but feeling their torn and +tattered appearance was against them, they put on so many airs and +graces to counteract this that flesh and blood could not endure it +quietly. The cook would allude to his friend as Mr. Thomson, while the +A. B. would persist in referring, with a most affected utterance, to +Dr. Carson. + +“Cook!” bawled the skipper one day when they were about a week out. + +Dr. Carson, who was peeling potatoes, stepped slowly out of the galley +and went toward him. + +“You say ‘Sir,’ when you’re spoken to,” said the skipper, fiercely. + +The doctor sneered. + +“My — if you sneer at me, I’ll knock your head off!” said the other, +with a wicked look. + +“When you get back to Melbourne,” said the doctor, quietly, “you’ll +hear more of this.” + +“You’re a couple of pickpockets aping the gentleman,” said the skipper, +and he turned to the mate. “Mr. Mackenzie, what do these two +ragamuffins look like?” + +“Pickpockets,” said the mate, dutifully. + +“It’s a very handy thing,” said the old man, jeeringly, “to have a +doctor aboard. First time I’ve carried a surgeon.” + +Mr. Mackenzie guffawed loudly. + +“And a solicitor,” said the skipper, gazing darkly at the hapless Harry +Thomson, who was cleaning brasswork. “Handy in case of disputes. He’s a +real sea lawyer. _Cook!_” + +“Sir?” said the doctor, quietly. + +“Go down and tidy my cabin, and see you do it well.” + +The doctor went below without a word, and worked like a housemaid. When +he came on deck again, his face wore a smile almost of happiness, and +his hand caressed one trousers pocket as though it concealed a hidden +weapon. + +For the following three or four days the two unfortunates were worked +unceasingly. Mr. Thomson complained bitterly, but the cook wore a +sphinx-like smile and tried to comfort him. + +“It won’t be for long, Harry,” he said, consolingly. + +The solicitor sniffed. “I could write tract after tract on temperance,” +he said, bitterly. “I wonder what our poor wives are thinking? I expect +they have put us down as dead.” + +“Crying their eyes out,” said the doctor, wistfully; “but they’ll dry +them precious quick when we get back, and ask all sorts of questions. +What are you going to say, Harry?” + +“The truth,” said the solicitor, virtuously. + +“So am I,” said his friend; “but mind, we must both tell the same tale, +whatever it is. Halloa! what’s the matter?” + +“It’s the skipper,” said the boy, who had just run up; “he wants to see +you at once. He’s dying.” + +He caught hold of the doctor by the sleeve; but Carson, in his most +professional manner, declined to be hurried. He went leisurely down the +companion-ladder, and met with a careless glance the concerned faces of +the mate and second officer. + +“Come to the skipper at once,” said the mate. + +“Does he want to see me?” said the doctor, languidly, as he entered the +cabin. + +The skipper was lying doubled up in his bunk, his face twisted with +pain. “Doctor,” he panted, “give me something quick. There’s the +medicine-chest.” + +“Do you want some food, sir?” inquired the other, respectfully. + +“Food be damned!” said the sufferer. “I want physic. There’s the +medicine-chest.” The doctor took it up and held it out to him. “I don’t +want the lot,” moaned the skipper. + +“I want you to give me something for red-hot corkscrews in the inside.” + +“I beg your pardon,” said the doctor, humbly; “I’m only the cook.” + +“If you—don’t—prescribe for me at once,” said the skipper, “I’ll put +you in irons.” + +The doctor shook his head. “I shipped as cook,” he said, slowly. + +“Give me something, for Heaven’s sake!” said the skipper, humbly. “I’m +dying.” The doctor pondered. + +“If you dinna treat him at once, I’ll break your skull,” said the mate, +persuasively. + +The doctor regarded him scornfully, and turned to the writhing skipper. + +“My fee is half a guinea a visit,” he said, softly; “five shillings if +you come to me.” + +“I’ll have half a guinea’s worth,” said the agonized skipper. + +The doctor took his wrist, and calmly drew the second officer’s watch +from its owner’s pocket. Then he inspected the sick man’s tongue, and +shaking his head, selected a powder from the chest. + +“You mustn’t mind its being nasty,” he said. “Where’s a spoon?” + +He looked round for one, but the skipper took the powder from his hand, +and licked it from the paper as though it had been sherbet. + +“For mercy’s sake don’t say it’s cholera,” he gasped. + +“I won’t say anything,” said the doctor. “Where did you say the money +was?” + +The skipper pointed to his trousers, and Mr. Mackenzie, his national +spirit rising in hot rage, took out the agreed amount and handed it to +the physician. + +“Am I in danger?” said the skipper. + +“There’s always danger,” said the doctor, in his best bedside manner. +“Have you made your will?” + +The other, turning pale, shook his head. “Perhaps you’d like to see a +solicitor?” said Carson, in winning tones. + +“I’m not bad enough for that,” said the skipper, stoutly. + +“You must stay here and nurse the skipper, Mr. Mackenzie,” said Carson, +turning to the mate; “and be good enough not to make that snuffling +noise; it’s worrying to an invalid.” + +“Snuffling noise?” repeated the horror-struck mate. + +“Yes; you’ve got an unpleasant habit of snuffling,” said the doctor; +“it sometimes. I worries me meant to speak to you about it before. You +mustn’t do it here. If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck.” + +The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper. +“Don’t make that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie,” he said, severely. + +Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the +sufferer’s bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend. Mr. +Thomson was at first incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at +the sight of the half-sovereign. + +“Better hide it,” he said, apprehensively; “the skipper’ll have it back +when he gets well; it’s the only coin we’ve got.” + +“He won’t get well,” said Dr. Carson, easily; “not till we get to +Hong-kong, that is.” + +“What’s the matter with him?” whispered the solicitor. + +The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head. “It +may be the cooking,” he said, slowly. “I’m not a good cook, I admit. It +might be something got into the food from the medicine-chest. I +shouldn’t be at all surprised if the mates are taken bad too.” + +And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley +again, bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in +his bunk, punching the air with his fists and rending it with his +language. The second officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, +and glancing forward, called out loudly for the cook. + +“You’re wanted, Frank,” said the solicitor. + +“When he calls me doctor, I’ll go,” said the other, stiffly. + +“_Cook!_” bawled the second officer. “_Cook!_ COOK!” + +He came running forward, his face red and angry, and his fist doubled. +“Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he demanded, fiercely. + +“I’ve been promoted,” said Carson, sweetly. “I’m ship’s surgeon now.” + +“Come down below at once, or I’ll take you there by the scruff of your +neck,” vociferated the other. + +“You’re not big enough, little man,” said the doctor, still smiling. +“Well, well, lead the way, and we’ll see what we can do.” + +He followed the speechless second officer below, and found the boy’s +description of the first officer’s state as moonlight unto sunlight, as +water unto wine. Even the second officer was appalled at the spectacle, +and ventured a protest. + +“Gie me something at once,” yelled Mr. Mackenzie. + +“Do you wish me to undertake your case?” inquired the doctor, suavely. + +Mr. Mackenzie said that he did, in seven long, abusive, and wicked +sentences. + +“My fee is half a guinea,” said the doctor, softly, “poor people who +cannot afford more, mates and the like, I sometimes treat for less.” + +“I’ll die first,” howled the mate; “you won’t get any money out of me.” + +“Very good,” said the doctor, and rose to depart. + +“Bring him back, Rogers,” yelled the mate; “don’t let him go.” + +But the second officer, with a strange awesome look in his eyes, was +leaning back in his seat, tightly gripping the edge of the table in +both hands. + +“Come, come,” said the doctor, cheerily—“what’s this? You mustn’t be +ill, Rogers. I want you to nurse these other two.” + +The other rose slowly to his feet and eyed him with lack-lustre eyes. +“Tell the third officer to take charge,” he said, slowly; “and if he’s +to be nurse as well, he’s got his hands full.” + +The doctor sent the boy to apprise the third officer of his +responsibilities, and then stood watching the extraordinary and +snakelike convolutions of Mr. Mackenzie. + +“How much—did—ye say?” hissed the latter. + +“Poor people,” repeated the doctor, with relish, “five shillings a +visit; very poor people, half a crown.” + +“I’ll have half a crown’s worth,” moaned the miserable mate. + +“Mr. Mackenzie,” said a faint voice from the skipper’s cabin. + +“Sir?” yelled the mate, who was in torment. + +“Don’t answer me like that, sir,” said the skipper, sharply. “Will you +please to remember that I’m ill, and can’t bear that horrible noise +you’re making?” + +“I’m—ill—too,” gasped the mate. + +“Ill? Nonsense!” said the skipper, severely. “We can’t both be ill. How +about the ship?” + +There was no reply, but from another cabin the voice of Mr. Rogers was +heard calling wildly for medical aid, and offering impossible sums in +exchange for it. The doctor went from cabin to cabin, and, first +collecting his fees, administered sundry potions to the sufferers; and +then, in his capacity of cook, went forward and made an unsavory mess +he called gruel, which he insisted upon their eating. + +Thanks to his skill, the invalids were freed from the more violent of +their pains, but this freedom was followed by a weakness so alarming +that they could hardly raise their heads from their pillows—a state of +things which excited the intense envy of the third officer, who, owing +to his responsibilities, might just as well have been without one. + +In this state of weakness, and with the fear of impending dissolution +before his eyes, the skipper sent for Mr. Harry Thomson, and after some +comparisons between lawyers and sharks, in which stress was laid upon +certain redeeming features of the latter, paid a guinea and made his +will. His example, save in the amount of the fee, was followed by the +mate; but Mr. Rogers, being approached tentatively by the doctor in his +friend’s behalf, shook his head and thanked his stars he had nothing to +leave. He had enjoyed his money, he said. + +They mended slowly as they approached Hong-kong, though a fit of temper +on Mr. Mackenzie’s part, during which he threw out ominous hints about +having his money back, led to a regrettable relapse in his case. He was +still in bed when they came to anchor in the harbour; but the skipper +and his second officer were able to go above and exchange +congratulations from adjoining deck-chairs. + +“You are sure it wasn’t cholera?” asked the harbour-master’s deputy, +who had boarded them in his launch, after he had heard the story. + +“Positive,” said Carson. + +“Very fortunate thing they had you on board,” said the deputy—“very +fortunate.” + +The doctor bowed. + +“Seems so odd, the three of them being down with it,” said the other; +“looks as though it’s infectious, doesn’t it?” + +“I don’t think so,” said the doctor, accepting with alacrity an offer +to go ashore in the launch and change into some decent clothes. “I +think I know what it was.” + +[Illustration: The second officer leaned forward.] + +The captain of the _Stella_ pricked up his ears, and the second officer +leaned forward with parted lips. Carson, accompanied by the deputy and +the solicitor, walked toward the launch. + +“What was it?” cried the skipper, anxiously. + +“I think that you ate something that disagreed with you,” replied the +doctor, grinning meaningly. “Good-by, captain.” + +The master of the _Stella_ made no reply, but rising feebly, tottered +to the side, and shook his fist at the launch as it headed for the +shore. Doctor Carson, who had had a pious upbringing, kissed his hand +in return. + + + + +A GOLDEN VENTURE + + +The elders of the Tidger family sat at breakfast—Mrs. Tidger with knees +wide apart and the youngest Tidger nestling in the valley of +print-dress which lay between, and Mr. Tidger bearing on one moleskin +knee a small copy of himself in a red flannel frock and a slipper. The +larger Tidger children took the solids of their breakfast up and down +the stone-flagged court outside, coming in occasionally to gulp +draughts of very weak tea from a gallipot or two which stood on the +table, and to wheedle Mr. Tidger out of any small piece of bloater +which he felt generous enough to bestow. + +“Peg away, Ann,” said Mr. Tidger, heartily. + +His wife’s elder sister shook her head, and passing the remains of her +slice to one of her small nephews, leaned back in her chair. “No +appetite, Tidger,” she said, slowly. + +“You should go in for carpentering,” said Mr. Tidger, in justification +of the huge crust he was carving into mouthfuls with his pocket-knife. +“Seems to me I can’t eat enough sometimes. Hullo, who’s the letter +for?” + +He took it from the postman, who stood at the door amid a bevy of +Tidgers who had followed him up the court, and slowly read the address. + +“‘Mrs. Ann Pullen,’” he said, handing it over to his sister-in-law; +“nice writing, too.” + +Mrs. Pullen broke the envelope, and after a somewhat lengthy search for +her pocket, fumbled therein for her spectacles. She then searched the +mantelpiece, the chest of drawers, and the dresser, and finally ran +them to earth on the copper. + +She was not a good scholar, and it took her some time to read the +letter, a proceeding which she punctuated with such “Ohs” and “Ahs” and +gaspings and “God bless my souls” as nearly drove the carpenter and his +wife, who were leaning forward impatiently, to the verge of +desperation. + +“Who’s it from?” asked Mr. Tidger for the third time. + +“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Pullen. “Good gracious, who ever would ha’ +thought it!” + +“Thought what, Ann?” demanded the carpenter, feverishly. + +“Why don’t people write their names plain?” demanded his sister-in-law, +impatiently. “It’s got a printed name up in the corner; perhaps that’s +it. Well, I never did—I don’t know whether I’m standing on my head or +my heels.” + +“You’re sitting down, that’s what you’re a-doing,” said the carpenter, +regarding her somewhat unfavourably. + +“Perhaps it’s a take-in,” said Mrs. Pullen, her lips trembling. “I’ve +heard o’ such things. If it is, I shall never get over it—never.” + +“Get—over—what?” asked the carpenter. + +“It don’t look like a take-in,” soliloquized Mrs. Pullen, “and I +shouldn’t think anybody’d go to all that trouble and spend a penny to +take in a poor thing like me.” + +Mr. Tidger, throwing politeness to the winds, leaped forward, and +snatching the letter from her, read it with feverish haste, tempered by +a defective education. + +“It’s a take-in, Ann,” he said, his voice trembling; “it must be.” + +“What is?” asked Mrs. Tidger, impatiently. + +“Looks like it,” said Mrs. Pullen, feebly. + +“What is it?” screamed Mrs. Tidger, wrought beyond all endurance. + +Her husband turned and regarded her with much severity, but Mrs. +Tidger’s gaze was the stronger, and after a vain attempt to meet it, he +handed her the letter. + +Mrs. Tidger read it through hastily, and then snatching the baby from +her lap, held it out with both arms to her husband, and jumping up, +kissed her sister heartily, patting her on the back in her excitement +until she coughed with the pain of it. + +“You don’t think it’s a take-in, Polly?” she inquired. + +“Take-in?” said her sister; “of course it ain’t. Lawyers don’t play +jokes; their time’s too valuable. No, you’re an heiress all right, Ann, +and I wish you joy. I couldn’t be more pleased if it was myself.” + +She kissed her again, and going to pat her back once more, discovered +that she had sunk down sufficiently low in her chair to obtain the +protection of its back. + +“Two thousand pounds,” said Mrs. Pullen, in an awestruck voice. + +“Ten hundered pounds twice over,” said the carpenter, mouthing it +slowly; “twenty hundered pounds.” + +He got up from the table, and instinctively realizing that he could not +do full justice to his feelings with the baby in his arms, laid it on +the teatray in a puddle of cold tea and stood looking hard at the +heiress. + +“I was housekeeper to her eleven years ago,” said Mrs. Pullen. “I +wonder what she left it to me for?” + +“Didn’t know what to do with it, I should think,” said the carpenter, +still staring openmouthed. + +“Tidger, I’m ashamed of you,” said his wife, snatching her infant to +her bosom. “I expect you was very good to her, Ann.” + +“I never ’ad no luck,” said the impenitent carpenter. “Nobody ever left +me no money. Nobody ever left me so much as a fi-pun note.” + +He stared round disdainfully at his poor belongings, and drawing on his +coat, took his bag from a corner, and hoisting it on his shoulder, +started to his work. He scattered the news as he went, and it ran up +and down the little main street of Thatcham, and thence to the outlying +lanes and cottages. Within a couple of hours it was common property, +and the fortunate legatee was presented with a congratulatory address +every time she ventured near the door. + +It is an old adage that money makes friends; the carpenter was +surprised to find that the mere fact of his having a moneyed relation +had the same effect, and that men to whom he had hitherto shown a +certain amount of respect due to their position now sought his company. +They stood him beer at the “Bell,” and walked by his side through the +street. When they took to dropping in of an evening to smoke a pipe the +carpenter was radiant with happiness. + +“You don’t seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger,” said the +wife of his bosom after they had retired one evening. + +“H’m?” said the startled carpenter. + +“What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?” demanded +his wife. + +“Smoke his pipe,” replied her husband, confidently. + +“And old Wiggett?” persisted Mrs. Tidger. + +“Smoke _his_ pipe,” was the reply. “Why, what’s the matter, Polly?” + +Mrs. Tidger sniffed derisively. “You men are all alike,” she snapped. +“What do you think Ann wears that pink bodice for?” + +“I never noticed she ’ad a pink bodice, Polly,” said the carpenter. + +“No? That’s what I say. You men never notice anything,” said his wife. +“If you don’t send them two old fools off, I will.” + +“Don’t you like ’em to see Ann wearing pink?” inquired the mystified +Tidger. + +Mrs. Tidger bit her lip and shook her head at him scornfully. “In plain +English, Tidger, as plain as I can speak it,”—she said, severely, +“they’re after Ann and ’er bit o’ money.” + +Mr. Tidger gazed at her open-mouthed, and taking advantage of that +fact, blew out the candle to hide his discomposure. “What!” he said, +blankly, “at ’er time o’ life?” + +“Watch ’em to-morrer,” said his wife. + +The carpenter acted upon his instructions, and his ire rose as he +noticed the assiduous attention paid by his two friends to the +frivolous Mrs. Pullen. Mr. Wiggett, a sharp-featured little man, was +doing most of the talking, while his rival, a stout, clean-shaven man +with a slow, oxlike eye, looked on stolidly. Mr. Miller was seldom in a +hurry, and lost many a bargain through his slowness—a fact which +sometimes so painfully affected the individual who had outdistanced him +that he would offer to let him have it at a still lower figure. + +[Illustration: “You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen.”] + +“You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen,” said Wiggett, the +conversation having turned upon ages. + +“Young ain’t the word for it,” said Miller, with a praiseworthy +determination not to be left behind. + +“No; it’s age as you’re thinking of, Mr. Wiggett,” said the carpenter, +slowly; “none of us gets younger, do we, Ann?” + +“Some of us keeps young in our ways,” said Mrs. Pullen, somewhat +shortly. + +“How old should you say Ann is now?” persisted the watchful Tidger. + +Mr. Wiggett shook his head. “I should say she’s about fifteen years +younger nor me,” he said, slowly, “and I’m as lively as a cricket.” + +“She’s fifty-five,” said the carpenter. + +“That makes you seventy, Wiggett,” said Mr. Miller, pointedly. “I +thought you was more than that. You look it.” + +Mr. Wiggett coughed sourly. “I’m fifty-nine,” he growled. “Nothing’ll +make me believe as Mrs. Pullen’s fifty-five, nor anywhere near it.” + +“Ho!” said the carpenter, on his mettle—“ho! Why, my wife here was the +sixth child, and she—- He caught a gleam in the sixth child’s eye, and +expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had +finished, and Mr. Tidger, noticing this, coughed again. + +“And she—” prompted Mr. Miller, displaying a polite interest. + +“She ain’t so young as she was,” said the carpenter. + +“Cares of a family,” said Mr. Wiggett, plumping boldly. “I always +thought Mrs. Pullen was younger than her.” + +“So did I,” said Mr. Miller, “much younger.” + +Mr. Wiggett eyed him sharply. It was rather hard to have Miller hiding +his lack of invention by participating in his compliments and even +improving upon them. It was the way he dealt at market-listening to +other dealers’ accounts of their wares, and adding to them for his own. + +“I was noticing you the other day, ma’am,” continued Mr. Wiggett. “I +see you going up the road with a step free and easy as a young girl’s.” + +“She allus walks like that,” said Mr. Miller, in a tone of surprised +reproof. + +“It’s in the family,” said the carpenter, who had been uneasily +watching his wife’s face. + +“Both of you seem to notice a lot,” said Mrs. Tidger; “much more than +you used to.” + +Mr. Tidger, who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed +again. + +“You ought to take something for that cough,” said Mr. Wiggett, +considerately. + +“Gin and beer,” said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist. + +“Bed’s the best thing for it,” said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was +beginning to show signs of getting out of hand. + +Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got +up, and pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and +looked at Mr. Miller. That gentleman, who was apparently deep in some +knotty problem, was gazing at the floor, and oblivious for the time to +his surroundings. + +“Come along,” said Wiggett, with feigned heartiness, slapping him on +the back. + +Mr. Miller, looking for a moment as though he would like to return the +compliment, came back to everyday life, and bidding the company +good-night, stepped to the door, accompanied by his rival. It was +immediately shut with some violence. + +“They seem in a hurry,” said Wiggett. “I don’t think I shall go there +again.” + +“I don’t think I shall,” said Mr. Miller. + +After this neither of them was surprised to meet there again the next +night, and indeed for several nights. The carpenter and his wife, who +did not want the money to go out of the family, and were also afraid of +offending Mrs. Pullen, were at their wits’ end what to do. Ultimately +it was resolved that Tidger, in as delicate a manner as possible, was +to hint to her that they were after her money. He was so vague and so +delicate that Mrs. Pullen misunderstood him, and fancying that he was +trying to borrow half a crown, made him a present of five shillings. + +It was evident to the slower-going Mr. Miller that his rival’s tongue +was giving him an advantage which only the ever-watchful presence of +the carpenter and his wife prevented him from pushing to the fullest +advantage. In these circumstances he sat for two hours after breakfast +one morning in deep cogitation, and after six pipes got up with a +twinkle in his slow eyes which his brother dealers had got to regard as +a danger signal. + +He had only the glimmering of an idea at first, but after a couple of +pints at the “Bell” everything took shape, and he cast his eyes about +for an assistant. They fell upon a man named Smith, and the dealer, +after some thought, took up his glass and went over to him. + +“I want you to do something for me,” he remarked, in a mysterious +voice. + +“Ah, I’ve been wanting to see you,” said Smith, who was also a dealer +in a small way. “One o’ them hins I bought off you last week is dead.” + +“I’ll give you another for it,” said Miller. + +“And the others are so forgetful,” continued Mr. Smith. + +“Forgetful?” repeated the other. + +“Forget to lay, like,” said Mr. Smith, musingly. + +“Never mind about them,” said Mr. Miller, with some animation. “I want +you to do something for me. If it comes off all right, I’ll give you a +dozen hins and a couple of decentish-sized pigs.” + +Mr. Smith called a halt. “Decentish-sized” was vague. + +“Take your pick,” said Mr. Miller. “You know Mrs. Pullen’s got two +thousand pounds—” + +“Wiggett’s going to have it,” said the other; “he as good as told me +so.” + +“He’s after her money,” said the other, sadly. “Look ’ere, Smith, I +want you to tell him she’s lost it all. Say that Tidger told you, but +you wasn’t to tell anybody else. Wiggett’ll believe you.” + +Mr. Smith turned upon him a face all wrinkles, lit by one eye. “I want +the hins and the pigs first,” he said, firmly. + +Mr. Miller, shocked at his grasping spirit, stared at him mournfully. + +“And twenty pounds the day you marry Mrs. Pullen,” continued Mr. Smith. + +Mr. Miller, leading him up and down the sawdust floor, besought him to +listen to reason, and Mr. Smith allowed the better feelings of our +common human nature to prevail to the extent of reducing his demands to +half a dozen fowls on account, and all the rest on the day of the +marriage. Then, with the delightful feeling that he wouldn’t do any +work for a week, he went out to drop poison into the ears of Mr. +Wiggett. + +“Lost all her money!” said the startled Mr. Wiggett. “How?” + +“I don’t know how,” said his friend. “Tidger told me, but made me +promise not to tell a soul. But I couldn’t help telling you, Wiggett, +’cause I know what you’re after.” + +“Do me a favour,” said the little man. + +“I will,” said the other. + +“Keep it from Miller as long as possible. If you hear any one else +talking of it, tell ’em to keep it from him. If he marries her I’ll +give you a couple of pints.” + +Mr. Smith promised faithfully, and both the Tidgers and Mrs. Pullen +were surprised to find that Mr. Miller was the only visitor that +evening. He spoke but little, and that little in a slow, ponderous +voice intended for Mrs. Pullen’s ear alone. He spoke disparagingly of +money, and shook his head slowly at the temptations it brought in its +train. Give him a crust, he said, and somebody to halve it with—a +home-made crust baked by a wife. It was a pretty picture, but somewhat +spoiled by Mrs. Tidger suggesting that, though he had spoken of halving +the crust, he had said nothing about the beer. + +“Half of my beer wouldn’t be much,” said the dealer, slowly. + +“Not the half you would give your wife wouldn’t,” retorted Mrs. Tidger. + +The dealer sighed and looked mournfully at Mrs. Pullen. The lady sighed +in return, and finding that her admirer’s stock of conversation seemed +to be exhausted, coyly suggested a game of draughts. The dealer +assented with eagerness, and declining the offer of a glass of beer by +explaining that he had had one the day before yesterday, sat down and +lost seven games right off. He gave up at the seventh game, and pushing +back his chair, said that he thought Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful +draught-player he had ever seen, and took no notice when Mrs. Tidger, +in a dry voice charged with subtle meaning, said that she thought he +was. + +“Draughts come natural to some people,” said Mrs. Pullen, modestly. +“It’s as easy as kissing your fingers.” + +Mr. Miller looked doubtful; then he put his great fingers to his lips +by way of experiment, and let them fall unmistakably in the widow’s +direction. Mrs. Pullen looked down and nearly blushed. The carpenter +and his wife eyed each other in indignant consternation. + +“That’s easy enough,” said the dealer, and repeated the offense. + +Mrs. Pullen got up in some confusion, and began to put the +draught-board away. One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they +both stooped to recover it their heads bumped. It was nothing to the +dealer’s, but Mrs. Pullen rubbed hers and sat down with her eyes +watering. Mr. Miller took out his handkerchief, and going to the +scullery, dipped it into water and held it to her head. + +“Is it better?” he inquired. + +“A little better,” said the victim, with a shiver. + +Mr. Miller, in his emotion, was squeezing the handkerchief hard, and a +cold stream was running down her neck. + +“Thank you. It’s all right now.” + +The dealer replaced the handkerchief, and sat for some time regarding +her earnestly. Then the carpenter and his wife displaying manifest +signs of impatience, he took his departure, after first inviting +himself for another game of draughts the following night. + +He walked home with the air of a conqueror, and thought exultingly that +the two thousand pounds were his. It was a deal after his own heart, +and not the least satisfactory part about it was the way he had got the +better of Wiggett. + +He completed his scheme the following day after a short interview with +the useful Smith. By the afternoon Wiggett found that his exclusive +information was common property, and all Thatcham was marvelling at the +fortitude with which Mrs. Pullen was bearing the loss of her fortune. +With a view of being out of the way when the denial was published, Mr. +Miller, after loudly expressing in public his sympathy for Mrs. Pullen +and his admiration of her qualities, drove over with some pigs to a +neighbouring village, returning to Thatcham in the early evening. Then +hurriedly putting his horse up he made his way to the carpenter’s. + +The Tidgers were at home when he entered, and Mrs. Pullen flushed +faintly as he shook hands. + +“I was coming in before,” he said, impressively, “after what I heard +this afternoon, but I had to drive over to Thorpe.” + +“You ’eard it?” inquired the carpenter, in an incredulous voice. + +“Certainly,” said the dealer, “and very sorry I was. Sorry for one +thing, but glad for another.” + +The carpenter opened his mouth and seemed about to speak. Then he +checked himself suddenly and gazed with interest at the ingenuous +dealer. + +“I’m glad,” said Mr. Miller, slowly, as he nodded at a friend of Mrs. +Tidger’s who had just come in with a long face, “because now that Mrs. +Pullen is poor, I can say to her what I couldn’t say while she was +rich.” + +Again the astonished carpenter was about to speak, but the dealer +hastily checked him with his hand. + +“One at a time,” he said. “Mrs. Pullen, I was very sorry to hear this +afternoon, for your sake, that you had lost all your money. What I +wanted to say to you now, now that you are poor, was to ask you to be +Mrs. Miller. What d’ye say?” + +Mrs. Pullen, touched at so much goodness, wept softly and said, “Yes.” +The triumphant Miller took out his handkerchief—the same that he had +used the previous night, for he was not an extravagant man—and tenderly +wiped her eyes. + +“Well, I’m blowed!” said the staring carpenter. + +“I’ve got a nice little ’ouse,” continued the wily Mr. Miller. “It’s a +poor place, but nice, and we’ll play draughts every evening. When shall +it be?” + +“When you like,” said Mrs. Pullen, in a faint voice. + +“I’ll put the banns up to-morrow,” said the dealer. + +Mrs. Tidger’s lady friend giggled at so much haste, but Mrs. Tidger, +who felt that she had misjudged him, was touched. + +“It does you credit, Mr. Miller,” she said, warmly. + +“No, no,” said the dealer; and then Mr. Tidger got up, and crossing the +room, solemnly shook hands with him. + +“Money or no money, she’ll make a good wife,” he said. + +“I’m glad you’re pleased,” said the dealer, wondering at this +cordiality. + +“I don’t deny I thought you was after her money,” continued the +carpenter, solemnly. “My missus thought so, too.” + +Mr. Miller shook his head, and said he thought they would have known +him better. + +“Of course it is a great loss,” said the carpenter. “Money is money.” + +“That’s all it is, though,” said the slightly mystified Mr. Miller. + +“What I can’t understand is,” continued the carpenter, “’ow the news +got about. Why, the neighbours knew of it a couple of hours before we +did.” + +The dealer hid a grin. Then he looked a bit bewildered again. + +“I assure you,” said the carpenter, “it was known in the town at least +a couple of hours before we got the letter.” + +Mr. Miller waited a minute to get perfect control over his features. +“Letter?” he repeated, faintly. + +“The letter from the lawyers,” said the carpenter. + +Mr. Miller was silent again. His features were getting tiresome. He +eyed the door furtively. + +“What-was-in-the letter?” he asked. + +“Short and sweet,” said the carpenter, with bitterness. “Said it was +all a mistake, because they’d been and found another will. People +shouldn’t make such mistakes.” + +“We’re all liable to make mistakes,” said Miller, thinking he saw an +opening. + +“Yes, we made a mistake when we thought you was after Ann’s money,” +assented the carpenter. “I’m sure I thought you’d be the last man in +the world to be pleased to hear that she’d lost it. One thing is, +you’ve got enough for both.” + +Mr. Miller made no reply, but in a dazed way strove to realize the full +measure of the misfortune which had befallen him. The neighbour, with +the anxiety of her sex to be the first with a bit of news, had already +taken her departure. He thought of Wiggett walking the earth a free +man, and of Smith with a three-months’ bill for twenty pounds. His +pride as a dealer was shattered beyond repair, and emerging from a +species of mist, he became conscious that the carpenter was addressing +him. + +[Illustration: “We’ll leave you two young things alone.”] + +“We’ll leave you two young things alone for a bit,” said Mr. Tidger, +heartily. “We’re going out. When you’re tired o’ courting you can play +draughts, and Ann will show you one or two of ’er moves. So long.” + + + + +THREE AT TABLE + + +The talk in the coffee-room had been of ghosts and apparitions, and +nearly everybody present had contributed his mite to the stock of +information upon a hazy and somewhat thread-bare subject. Opinions +ranged from rank incredulity to childlike faith, one believer going so +far as to denounce unbelief as impious, with a reference to the Witch +of Endor, which was somewhat marred by being complicated in an +inexplicable fashion with the story of Jonah. + +“Talking of Jonah,” he said solemnly, with a happy disregard of the +fact that he had declined to answer several eager questions put to him +on the subject, “look at the strange tales sailors tell us.” + +“I wouldn’t advise you to believe all those,” said a bluff, +clean-shaven man, who had been listening without speaking much. “You +see when a sailor gets ashore he’s expected to have something to tell, +and his friends would be rather disappointed if he had not.” + +“It’s a well-known fact,” interrupted the first speaker firmly, “that +sailors are very prone to see visions.” + +“They are,” said the other dryly, “they generally see them in pairs, +and the shock to the nervous system frequently causes headache next +morning.” + +“You never saw anything yourself?” suggested an unbeliever. + +“Man and boy,” said the other, “I’ve been at sea thirty years, and the +only unpleasant incident of that kind occurred in a quiet English +countryside.” + +“And that?” said another man. + +“I was a young man at the time,” said the narrator, drawing at his pipe +and glancing good-humouredly at the company. “I had just come back from +China, and my own people being away I went down into the country to +invite myself to stay with an uncle. When I got down to the place I +found it closed and the family in the South of France; but as they were +due back in a couple of days I decided to put up at the Royal George, a +very decent inn, and await their return. + +“The first day I passed well enough; but in the evening the dulness of +the rambling old place, in which I was the only visitor, began to weigh +upon my spirits, and the next morning after a late breakfast I set out +with the intention of having a brisk day’s walk. + +“I started off in excellent spirits, for the day was bright and frosty, +with a powdering of snow on the iron-bound roads and nipped hedges, and +the country had to me all the charm of novelty. It was certainly flat, +but there was plenty of timber, and the villages through which I passed +were old and picturesque. + +“I lunched luxuriously on bread and cheese and beer in the bar of a +small inn, and resolved to go a little further before turning back. +When at length I found I had gone far enough, I turned up a lane at +right angles to the road I was passing, and resolved to find my way +back by another route. It is a long lane that has no turning, but this +had several, each of which had turnings of its own, which generally +led, as I found by trying two or three of them, into the open marshes. +Then, tired of lanes, I resolved to rely upon the small compass which +hung from my watch chain and go across country home. + +“I had got well into the marshes when a white fog, which had been for +some time hovering round the edge of the ditches, began gradually to +spread. There was no escaping it, but by aid of my compass I was saved +from making a circular tour and fell instead into frozen ditches or +stumbled over roots in the grass. I kept my course, however, until at +four o’clock, when night was coming rapidly up to lend a hand to the +fog, I was fain to confess myself lost. + +“The compass was now no good to me, and I wandered about miserably, +occasionally giving a shout on the chance of being heard by some +passing shepherd or farmhand. At length by great good luck I found my +feet on a rough road driven through the marshes, and by walking slowly +and tapping with my stick managed to keep to it. I had followed it for +some distance when I heard footsteps approaching me. + +“We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking +countryman, hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a +mile, and putting me on to a road gave me minute instructions how to +reach a village some three miles distant. + +“I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a +little way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window. I pointed it +out, but my companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily. + +“‘You won’t get no good there,’ he said, hastily. + +“‘Why not?’ I asked. + +“‘There’s a something there, sir,’ he replied, ‘what ’tis I dunno, but +the little ’un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts +see it, and it was never much good afterward. Some say as it’s a poor +mad thing, others says as it’s a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it +ain’t good to see.’ + +“‘Well, I’ll keep on, then,’ I said. ‘Goodnight.’ + +“He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the +distance, and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided +into three, any one of which to a stranger might be said to lead +straight on. I was now cold and tired, and having half made up my mind +walked slowly back toward the house. + +“At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the +window. I made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found +myself walking into a tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came +to a small gate, and opening it cautiously, walked, not without some +little nervousness, up a long path which led to the door. There was no +light and no sound from within. Half repenting of my temerity I +shortened my stick and knocked lightly upon the door. + +“I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was +still beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old +woman, holding a candle, confronted me. + +“‘What do you want?’ she demanded gruffly. + +“‘I’ve lost my way,’ I said, civilly; ‘I want to get to Ashville.’ + +“‘Don’t know it,’ said the old woman. + +“She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the +side of the hall and came toward us. An old man of great height and +breadth of shoulder. + +“‘Ashville is fifteen miles distant,’ he said slowly. + +“‘If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,’ I +remarked. + +“He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the +woman. She made a gesture of dissent. + +“‘The nearest place is three miles off,’ he said, turning to me and +apparently trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; ‘if you will give +me the pleasure of your company, I will make you as comfortable as I +can.’ + +“I hesitated. They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the +gloomy hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more +inviting than the darkness outside. + +“‘You are very kind,’ I murmured, irresolutely, ‘but—’ + +“‘Come in,’ he said quickly; ‘shut the door, Anne.’ + +“Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman, +muttering to herself, had closed the door behind me. With a queer +sensation of being trapped I followed my host into the room, and taking +the proffered chair warmed my frozen fingers at the fire. + +“‘Dinner will soon be ready,’ said the old man, regarding me closely. +‘If you will excuse me.’ + +“I bowed and he left the room. A minute afterward I heard voices; his +and the old woman’s, and, I fancied, a third. Before I had finished my +inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same +strange look I had noticed before. + +“‘There will be three of us at dinner,’ he said, at length. ‘We two and +my son.’ + +“I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn’t run in the +family. + +“‘I suppose you don’t mind dining in the dark,’ he said, abruptly. + +“‘Not at all,’ I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, ‘but +really I’m afraid I’m intruding. If you’ll allow me—’ + +“He waved his huge gaunt hands. ‘We’re not going to lose you now we’ve +got you,’ he said, with a dry laugh. ‘It’s seldom we have company, and +now we’ve got you we’ll keep you. My son’s eyes are bad, and he can’t +stand the light. Ah, here is Anne.’ + +“As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to +lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the +hearth, sat looking silently into the fire. The table set, the old +woman brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing +three chairs, left the room. The old man hesitated a moment, and then, +rising from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and +slowly extinguished the candles. + +“‘Blind man’s holiday,’ he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his +way to the door opened it. Somebody came back into the room with him, +and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the +strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast +becoming oppressive. + +“‘A cold night,’ it said slowly. + +“I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an +appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of +the day. It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was +evident from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as +unused to dining under such circumstances as I was. We ate in silence +until the old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put +them with a crash upon the table. + +“‘Are you a stranger about here?’ inquired the curious voice again. + +“I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in +stumbling upon such a good dinner. + +“‘Stumbling is a very good word for it,’ said the voice grimly. ‘You +have forgotten the port, father.’ + +“‘So I have,’ said the old man, rising. ‘It’s a bottle of the +“Celebrated” to-day; I will get it myself.’ + +“He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone +with my unseen neighbour. There was something so strange about the +whole business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of +uneasiness. + +“My host seemed to be absent a long time. I heard the man opposite lay +down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild +eyes shining through the gloom like a cat’s. + +“With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back. It caught +the hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over +with a crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of +the creature opposite. With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair +and stood with clenched fists beside it. Man or beast, which was it? +The flame leaped up and then went out, and in the mere red glow of the +fire it looked more devilish than before. + +“For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door +opened and the old man returned. He stood aghast as he saw the warm +firelight, and then approaching the table mechanically put down a +couple of bottles. + +“‘I beg your pardon,’ said I, reassured by his presence, ‘but I have +accidentally overturned the screen. Allow me to replace it.’ + +“‘No,’ said the old man, gently, ‘let it be. + +“‘We have had enough of the dark. I’ll give you a light.’ + +“He struck a match and slowly lit the candles. Then—I saw that the man +opposite had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which +one unquenched eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered. I was +greatly moved, some suspicion of the truth occurring to me. + +“‘My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,’ said the old +man. ‘Since then we have lived a very retired life. When you came to +the door we—’ his voice trembled, ‘that is-my son—’ + +“‘I thought,” said the son simply, ‘that it would be better for me not +to come to the dinner-table. But it happens to be my birthday, and my +father would not hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish +plan of dining in the dark. I’m sorry I startled you.’ + +“‘I am sorry,’ said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his +hand, ‘that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you +startled me.’ + +“From a faint tinge in the old man’s cheek and a certain pleasant +softening of the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly +congratulated myself upon this last remark. + +“‘We never see a friend,’ said the old man, apologetically, ‘and the +temptation to have company was too much for us. Besides, I don’t know +what else you could have done.’ + +“‘Nothing else half so good, I’m sure,’ said I. + +“‘Come,’ said my host, with almost a sprightly air. ‘Now we know each +other, draw our chairs to the fire and let’s keep this birthday in a +proper fashion.’ + +“He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box +of cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to +sit down and drink. If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for +vivacity, and we were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen. The +night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears when in +a lull in the conversation a clock in the hall struck twelve. + +“‘A last toast before we retire,’ said my host, pitching the end of his +cigar into the fire and turning to the small table. + +“We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive +in the old man’s manner as he rose and took up his glass. His tall +figure seemed to get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at +his disfigured son. + +“‘The health of the children my boy saved!’ he said, and drained his +glass at a draught.” + + +THE END. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12133 *** diff --git a/12133-h/12133-h.htm b/12133-h/12133-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3c7e98 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/12133-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9167 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Lady of the Barge | Project Gutenberg</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12133 ***</div> + +<h1>The Lady of the Barge</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by W. W. JACOBS</h2> + +<h4>1911</h4> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">THE LADY OF THE BARGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">THE MONKEY’S PAW</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">BILL’S PAPER CHASE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">THE WELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CUPBOARD LOVE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">IN THE LIBRARY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CAPTAIN ROGERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">A TIGER’S SKIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">A MIXED PROPOSAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">AN ADULTERATION ACT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">A GOLDEN VENTURE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">THREE AT TABLE</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Illustrations</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus00">He denied it again, hotly.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus01">“You villain!” she said, in a choking voice.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus02">“What’s that?” cried the old woman.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus03">Mrs. Driver fell back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus04">Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the door.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus05">Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus06">“Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus07">He saw another tatterdemalion coming toward him.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus08">“You say you’re a doctor?”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus09">The second officer leaned forward.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus10">“You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen.”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus11">“We’ll leave you two young things alone.”</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>THE LADY OF THE BARGE</h2> + +<p> +The master of the barge <i>Arabella</i> sat in the stern of his craft with his +right arm leaning on the tiller. A desultory conversation with the mate of a +schooner, who was hanging over the side of his craft a few yards off, had come +to a conclusion owing to a difference of opinion on the subject of religion. +The skipper had argued so warmly that he almost fancied he must have inherited +the tenets of the Seventh-day Baptists from his mother while the mate had +surprised himself by the warmth of his advocacy of a form of Wesleyanism which +would have made the members of that sect open their eyes with horror. He had, +moreover, confirmed the skipper in the error of his ways by calling him a +bargee, the ranks of the Baptists receiving a defender if not a recruit from +that hour. +</p> + +<p> +With the influence of the religious argument still upon him, the skipper, as +the long summer’s day gave place to night, fell to wondering where his own +mate, who was also his brother-in-law, had got to. Lights which had been +struggling with the twilight now burnt bright and strong, and the skipper, +moving from the shadow to where a band of light fell across the deck, took out +a worn silver watch and saw that it was ten o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above and began +to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of twenty-two sprang +nimbly to the deck. +</p> + +<p> +“Ten o’clock, Ted,” said the skipper, slowly. “It’ll be eleven in an hour’s +time,” said the mate, calmly. +</p> + +<p> +“That’ll do,” said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticed that +his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position, and a +fortuitous expression of his mother’s occurred to him: “Don’t talk to me; I’ve +been arguing with a son of Belial for the last half-hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bargee,” said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t take no notice of him, Ted,” said the skipper, pityingly. +</p> + +<p> +“He wasn’t talking to me,” said Ted. “But never mind about him; I want to speak +to you in private.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fire away, my lad,” said the other, in a patronizing voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak up,” said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. “I’m listening.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the cabin, and +lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, took a seat on a +locker, and again requested the other to fire away. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see, it’s this way,” began the mate, with a preliminary wriggle: +“there’s a certain young woman—” +</p> + +<p> +“A certain young what?” shouted the master of the <i>Arabella</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“Woman,” repeated the mate, snappishly; “you’ve heard of a woman afore, haven’t +you? Well, there’s a certain young woman I’m walking out with I—” +</p> + +<p> +“Walking out?” gasped the skipper. “Why, I never ’eard o’ such a thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“You would ha’ done if you’d been better looking, p’raps,” retorted the other. +“Well, I’ve offered this young woman to come for a trip with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you have, ’ave you!” said the skipper, sharply. “And what do you think +Louisa will say to it?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s your look out,” said Louisa’s brother, cheerfully. “I’ll make her up a +bed for’ard, and we’ll all be as happy as you please.” +</p> + +<p> +He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a series of +whistles of the most amatory description. +</p> + +<p> +“There she is,” he said. “I told her to wait outside.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran upon deck, and his perturbed brother-in-law, following at his leisure, +was just in time to see him descending the ladder with a young woman and a +small handbag. +</p> + +<p> +“This is my brother-in-law, Cap’n Gibbs,” said Ted, introducing the new +arrival; “smartest man at a barge on the river.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl extended a neatly gloved hand, shook the skipper’s affably, and looked +wonderingly about her. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very close to the water, Ted,” she said, dubiously. +</p> + +<p> +The skipper coughed. “We don’t take passengers as a rule,” he said, awkwardly; +“we ’ain’t got much convenience for them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” said the girl, kindly; “I sha’nt expect too much.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned away, and following the mate down to the cabin, went into ecstasies +over the space-saving contrivances she found there. The drawers fitted in the +skipper’s bunk were a source of particular interest, and the owner watched with +strong disapprobation through the skylight her efforts to make him an apple-pie +bed with the limited means at her disposal. He went down below at once as a wet +blanket. +</p> + +<p> +“I was just shaking your bed up a bit,” said Miss Harris, reddening. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you was,” said the skipper, briefly. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to pluck up courage to tell her that he couldn’t take her, but only +succeeded in giving vent to an inhospitable cough. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get the supper,” said the mate, suddenly; “you sit down, old man, and +talk to Lucy.” +</p> + +<p> +In honour of the visitor he spread a small cloth, and then proceeded to produce +cold beef, pickles, and accessories in a manner which reminded Miss Harris of +white rabbits from a conjurer’s hat. Captain Gibbs, accepting the inevitable, +ate his supper in silence and left them to their glances. +</p> + +<p> +“We must make you up a bed, for’ard, Lucy,” said the mate, when they had +finished. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Harris started. “Where’s that?” she inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Other end o’ the boat,” replied the mate, gathering up some bedding under his +arm. “You might bring a lantern, John.” +</p> + +<p> +The skipper, who was feeling more sociable after a couple of glasses of beer, +complied, and accompanied the couple to the tiny forecastle. A smell compounded +of bilge, tar, paint, and other healthy disinfectants emerged as the scuttle +was pushed back. The skipper dangled the lantern down and almost smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t sleep there,” said the girl, with decision. “I shall die o’ fright.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll get used to it,” said Ted, encouragingly, as he helped her down; “it’s +quite dry and comfortable.” +</p> + +<p> +He put his arm round her waist and squeezed her hand, and aided by this moral +support, Miss Harris not only consented to remain, but found various advantages +in the forecastle over the cabin, which had escaped the notice of previous +voyagers. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll leave you the lantern,” said the mate, making it fast, “and we shall be +on deck most o’ the night. We get under way at two.” +</p> + +<p> +He quitted the forecastle, followed by the skipper, after a polite but futile +attempt to give him precedence, and made his way to the cabin for two or three +hours’ sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“There’ll be a row at the other end, Ted,” said the skipper, nervously, as he +got into his bunk. “Louisa’s sure to blame me for letting you keep company with +a gal like this. We was talking about you only the other day, and she said if +you was married five years from now, it ’ud be quite soon enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let Loo mind her own business,” said the mate, sharply; “she’s not going to +nag me. She’s not <i>my</i> wife, thank goodness!” +</p> + +<p> +He turned over and fell fast asleep, waking up fresh and bright three hours +later, to commence what he fondly thought would be the pleasantest voyage of +his life. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Arabella</i> dropped slowly down with the tide, the wind being so light +that she was becalmed by every tall warehouse on the way. Off Greenwich, +however, the breeze freshened somewhat, and a little later Miss Harris, looking +somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to hair, came slowly on deck. +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s the looking-glass?” she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her. “How does +my hair look?” +</p> + +<p> +“All wavy,” said the infatuated young man; “all little curls and squiggles. +Come down in the cabin; there’s a glass there.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller, followed +the mate below, and giving vent to a little cry of indignation as she saw +herself in the glass, waved the amorous Ted on deck, and started work on her +disarranged hair. +</p> + +<p> +At breakfast-time a little friction was caused by what the mate bitterly termed +the narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways of the skipper. He had arranged that the +skipper should steer while he and Miss Harris breakfasted, but the coffee was +no sooner on the table than the skipper called him, and relinquishing the helm +in his favour, went below to do the honours. The mate protested. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not proper,” said the skipper. “Me and ’er will ’ave our meals together, +and then you must have yours. She’s under my care.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Harris assented blithely, and talk and laughter greeted the ears of the +indignant mate as he steered. He went down at last to cold coffee and lukewarm +herrings, returning to the deck after a hurried meal to find the skipper +narrating some of his choicest experiences to an audience which hung on his +lightest word. +</p> + +<p> +The disregard they showed for his feelings was maddening, and for the first +time in his life he became a prey to jealousy in its worst form. It was quite +clear to him that the girl had become desperately enamoured of the skipper, and +he racked his brain in a wild effort to discover the reason. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus00"></a> +<img src="images/000.jpg" width="441" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">He denied it again, hotly.</p> +</div> + +<p> +With an idea of reminding his brother-in-law of his position, he alluded two or +three times in a casual fashion to his wife. The skipper hardly listened to +him, and patting Miss Harris’s cheek in a fatherly manner, regaled her with an +anecdote of the mate’s boyhood which the latter had spent a goodly portion of +his life in denying. He denied it again, hotly, and Miss Harris, conquering for +a time her laughter, reprimanded him severely for contradicting. +</p> + +<p> +By the time dinner was ready he was in a state of sullen apathy, and when the +meal was over and the couple came on deck again, so far forgot himself as to +compliment Miss Harris upon her appetite. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m ashamed of you, Ted,” said the skipper, with severity. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad you know what shame is,” retorted the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“If you can’t be’ave yourself, you’d better keep a bit for’ard till you get in +a better temper,” continued the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be pleased to,” said the smarting mate. “I wish the barge was longer.” +</p> + +<p> +“It couldn’t be too long for me,” said Miss Harris, tossing her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Be’aving like a schoolboy,” murmured the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +“I know how to behave <i>my</i>-self,” said the mate, as he disappeared below. +His head suddenly appeared again over the companion. “If some people don’t,” he +added, and disappeared again. +</p> + +<p> +He was pleased to notice as he ate his dinner that the giddy prattle above had +ceased, and with his back turned toward the couple when he appeared on deck +again, he lounged slowly forward until the skipper called him back again. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot was them words you said just now, Ted?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +The mate repeated them with gusto. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the skipper, sharply; “very good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you ever speak to me again,” said Miss Harris, with a stately air, +“because I won’t answer you if you do.” +</p> + +<p> +The mate displayed more of his schoolboy nature. “Wait till you’re spoken to,” +he said, rudely. “This is your gratefulness, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Gratefulness?” said Miss Harris, with her chin in the air. “What for?” +</p> + +<p> +“For bringing you for a trip,” replied the mate, sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You</i> bringing me for a trip!” said Miss Harris, scornfully. “Captain +Gibbs is the master here, I suppose. He is giving me the trip. You’re only the +mate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so,” said the mate, with a grin at his brother-in-law, which made that +worthy shift uneasily. “I wonder what Loo will say when she sees you with a +lady aboard?” +</p> + +<p> +“She came to please you,” said Captain Gibbs, with haste. +</p> + +<p> +“Ho! she did, did she?” jeered the mate. “Prove it; only don’t look to me to +back you, that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +The other eyed him in consternation, and his manner changed. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t play the fool, Ted,” he said, not unkindly; “you know what Loo is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m reckoning on that,” said the mate, deliberately. “I’m going for’ard; +don’t let me interrupt you two. So long.” +</p> + +<p> +He went slowly forward, and lighting his pipe, sprawled carelessly on the deck, +and renounced the entire sex forthwith. At teatime the skipper attempted to +reverse the procedure at the other meals; but as Miss Harris steadfastly +declined to sit at the same table as the mate, his good intentions came to +naught. +</p> + +<p> +He made an appeal to what he termed the mate’s better nature, after Miss Harris +had retired to the seclusion of her bed-chamber, but in vain. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s nothing to do with me,” declared the mate, majestically. “I wash my +hands of her. She’s a flirt. I’m like Louisa, I can’t bear flirts.” +</p> + +<p> +The skipper said no more, but his face was so worn that Miss Harris, when she +came on deck in the early morning and found the barge gliding gently between +the grassy banks of a river, attributed it to the difficulty of navigating so +large a craft on so small and winding a stream. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall be alongside in ’arf an hour,” said the skipper, eyeing her. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Harris expressed her gratification. +</p> + +<p> +“P’raps you wouldn’t mind going down the fo’c’sle and staying there till we’ve +made fast,” said the other. “I’d take it as a favour. My owners don’t like me +to carry passengers.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Harris, who understood perfectly, said, “Certainly,” and with a cold stare +at the mate, who was at no pains to conceal his amusement, went below at once, +thoughtfully closing the scuttle after her. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no call to make mischief, Ted,” said the skipper, somewhat anxiously, +as they swept round the last bend and came into view of Coalsham. +</p> + +<p> +The mate said nothing, but stood by to take in sail as they ran swiftly toward +the little quay. The pace slackened, and the <i>Arabella</i>, as though +conscious of the contraband in her forecastle, crept slowly to where a stout, +middle-aged woman, who bore a strong likeness to the mate, stood upon the quay. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s poor Loo,” said the mate, with a sigh. +</p> + +<p> +The skipper made no reply to this infernal insinuation. The barge ran alongside +the quay and made fast. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you’d be up,” said Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. “Now come along to +breakfast; Ted’ll follow on.” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Gibbs, dived down below for his coat, and slipping ashore, thankfully +prepared to move off with his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on as soon as you can, Ted,” said the latter. “Why, what on earth is he +making that face for?” +</p> + +<p> +She turned in amazement as her brother, making a pretence of catching her +husband’s eye, screwed his face up into a note of interrogation and gave a +slight jerk with his thumb. +</p> + +<p> +“Come along,” said Captain Gibbs, taking her arm with much affection. +</p> + +<p> +“But what’s Ted looking like that for?” demanded his wife, as she easily +intercepted another choice facial expression of the mate’s. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s his fun,” replied her husband, walking on. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Fun?</i>” repeated Mrs. Gibbs, sharply. “What’s the matter, Ted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” replied the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Touch o’ toothache,” said the skipper. “Come along, Loo; I can just do with +one o’ your breakfasts.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Gibbs suffered herself to be led on, and had got at least five yards on +the way home, when she turned and looked back. The mate had still got the +toothache, and was at that moment in all the agonies of a phenomenal twinge. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something wrong here,” said Mrs. Gibbs as she retraced her steps. +“Ted, what are you making that face for?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s my own face,” said the mate, evasively. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Gibbs conceded the point, and added bitterly that it couldn’t be helped. +All the same she wanted to know what he meant by it. +</p> + +<p> +“Ask John,” said the vindictive mate. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Gibbs asked. Her husband said he didn’t know, and added that Ted had been +like it before, but he had not told her for fear of frightening her. Then he +tried to induce her to go with him to the chemist’s to get something for it. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Gibbs shook her head firmly, and boarding the barge, took a seat on the +hatch and proceeded to catechise her brother as to his symptoms. He denied that +there was anything the matter with him, while his eyes openly sought those of +Captain Gibbs as though asking for instruction. +</p> + +<p> +“You come home, Ted,” she said at length. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t,” said the mate. “I can’t leave the ship.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” demanded his sister. +</p> + +<p> +“Ask John,” said the mate again. +</p> + +<p> +At this Mrs. Gibbs’s temper, which had been rising, gave way altogether, and +she stamped fiercely upon the deck. A stamp of the foot has been for all time a +rough-and-ready means of signalling; the fore-scuttle was drawn back, and the +face of a young and pretty girl appeared framed in the opening. The mate raised +his eyebrows with a helpless gesture, and as for the unfortunate skipper, any +jury would have found him guilty without leaving the box. The wife of his +bosom, with a flaming visage, turned and regarded him. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus01"></a> +<img src="images/001.jpg" width="508" height="523" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“You villain!” she said, in a choking voice.</p> +</div> + +<p> +“You villain!” she said, in a choking voice. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Gibbs caught his breath and looked appealingly at the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a little surprise for you, my dear,” he faltered, “it’s Ted’s young +lady.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing of the kind,” said the mate, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not? How dare you say such a thing?” demanded Miss Harris, stepping on to +the deck. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you brought her aboard, Ted, you know you did,” pleaded the unhappy +skipper. +</p> + +<p> +The mate did not deny it, but his face was so full of grief and surprise that +the other’s heart sank within him. +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said the mate at last; “have it your own way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hold your tongue, Ted,” shouted Mrs. Gibbs; “you’re trying to shield him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you Ted brought her aboard, and they had a lover’s quarrel,” said her +unhappy spouse. “It’s nothing to do with me at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s why you told me Ted had got the toothache, and tried to get me off +to the chemist’s, I s’pose,” retorted his wife, with virulence. “Do you think +I’m a fool? How dare you ask a young woman on this barge? How dare you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t ask her,” said her husband. +</p> + +<p> +“I s’pose she came without being asked,” sneered his wife, turning her regards +to the passenger; “she looks the sort that might. You brazen-faced girl!” +</p> + +<p> +“Here, go easy, Loo,” interrupted the mate, flushing as he saw the girl’s pale +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Mind your own business,” said his sister, violently. +</p> + +<p> +“It is my business,” said the repentant mate. “I brought her aboard, and then +we quarrelled.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve no doubt,” said his sister, bitterly; “it’s very pretty, but it won’t +do.” +</p> + +<p> +“I swear it’s the truth,” said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Why did John keep it so quiet and hide her for, then?” demanded his sister. +</p> + +<p> +“I came down for the trip,” said Miss Harris; “that is all about it. There is +nothing to make a fuss about. How much is it, Captain Gibbs?” +</p> + +<p> +She produced a little purse from her pocket, but before the embarrassed skipper +could reply, his infuriated wife struck it out of her hand. The mate sprang +instinctively forward, but too late, and the purse fell with a splash into the +water. The girl gave a faint cry and clasped her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“How am I to get back?” she gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll see to that, Lucy,” said the mate. “I’m very sorry—I’ve been a brute.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You?</i>” said the indignant girl. “I would sooner drown myself than be +beholden to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m very sorry,” repeated the mate, humbly. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s enough of this play-acting,” interposed Mrs. Gibbs. “Get off this +barge.” +</p> + +<p> +“You stay where you are,” said the mate, authoritatively. +</p> + +<p> +“Send that girl off this barge,” screamed Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Gibbs smiled in a silly fashion and scratched his head. “Where is she +to go?” he asked feebly. +</p> + +<p> +“Wh’at does it matter to you where she goes?” cried his wife, fiercely. “Send +her off.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl eyed her haughtily, and repulsing the mate as he strove to detain her, +stepped to the side. Then she paused as he suddenly threw off his coat, and +sitting down on the hatch, hastily removed his boots. The skipper, divining his +intentions, seized him by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be a fool, Ted,” he gasped; “you’ll get under the barge.” +</p> + +<p> +The mate shook him off, and went in with a splash which half drowned his +adviser. Miss Harris, clasping her hands, ran to the side and gazed fearfully +at the spot where he had disappeared, while his sister in a terrible voice +seized the opportunity to point out to her husband the probably fatal results +of his ill-doing. There was an anxious interval, and then the mate’s head +appeared above the water, and after a breathing-space disappeared again. The +skipper, watching uneasily, stood by with a lifebelt. +</p> + +<p> +“Come out, Ted,” screamed his sister as he came up for breath again. +</p> + +<p> +The mate disappeared once more, but coming up for the third time, hung on to +the side of the barge to recover a bit. A clothed man in the water savours of +disaster and looks alarming. Miss Harris began to cry. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll be drowned,” she whimpered. +</p> + +<p> +“Come out,” said Mrs. Gibbs, in a raspy voice. She knelt on the deck and twined +her fingers in his hair. The mate addressed her in terms rendered brotherly by +pain. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind about the purse,” sobbed Miss Harris; “it doesn’t matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you make it up if I come out, then,” demanded the diver. +</p> + +<p> +“No; I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live,” said the girl, +passionately. +</p> + +<p> +The mate disappeared again. This time he was out of sight longer than usual, +and when he came up merely tossed his arms weakly and went down again. There +was a scream from the women, and a mighty splash as the skipper went overboard +with a life-belt. The mate’s head, black and shining, showed for a moment; the +skipper grabbed him by the hair and towed him to the barge’s side, and in the +midst of a considerable hubbub both men were drawn from the water. +</p> + +<p> +The skipper shook himself like a dog, but the mate lay on the deck inert in a +puddle of water. Mrs. Gibbs frantically slapped his hands; and Miss Harris, +bending over him, rendered first aid by kissing him wildly. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Gibbs pushed her away. “He won’t come round while you’re a-kissing of +him,” he cried, roughly. +</p> + +<p> +To his indignant surprise the drowned man opened one eye and winked +acquiescence. The skipper dropped his arms by his side and stared at him +stupidly. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw his eyelid twitch,” cried Mrs. Gibbs, joyfully. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s all right,” said her indignant husband; “’e ain’t born to be drowned, ’e +ain’t. I’ve spoilt a good suit of clothes for nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +To his wife’s amazement, he actually walked away from the insensible man, and +with a boathook reached for his hat, which was floating by. Mrs. Gibbs, still +gazing in blank astonishment, caught a seraphic smile on the face of her +brother as Miss Harris continued her ministrations, and in a pardonable fit of +temper the overwrought woman gave him a box on the ear, which brought him round +at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Where am I?” he inquired, artlessly. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Gibbs told him. She also told him her opinion of him, and without +plagiarizing her husband’s words, came to the same conclusion as to his +ultimate fate. +</p> + +<p> +“You come along home with me,” she said, turning in a friendly fashion to the +bewildered girl. “They deserve what they’ve got—both of ’em. I only hope that +they’ll both get such awful colds that they won’t find their voices for a +twelvemonth.” +</p> + +<p> +She took the girl by the arm and helped her ashore. They turned their heads +once in the direction of the barge, and saw the justly incensed skipper keeping +the mate’s explanations and apologies at bay with a boat-hook. Then they went +in to breakfast. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>THE MONKEY’S PAW</h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p> +Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa +the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at +chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical +changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even +provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it +was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched +out his hand. “Check.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with his hand +poised over the board. +</p> + +<p> +“Mate,” replied the son. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden and +unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to +live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a torrent. I don’t +know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses in the +road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the next +one.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between +mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in +his thin grey beard. +</p> + +<p> +“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy +footsteps came toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard +condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so +that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her husband entered the +room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire, +watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers and stood a +small copper kettle on the fire. +</p> + +<p> +At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little +family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as +he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of wild scenes and +doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples. +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. “When he +went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round a bit, +you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He put down +the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said the old +man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about a monkey’s paw +or something, Morris?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth hearing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the +sergeant-major, offhandedly. +</p> + +<p> +His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly put his +empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host filled it for him. +</p> + +<p> +“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s just an +ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.” +</p> + +<p> +He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with +a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it from his +son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table. +</p> + +<p> +“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a very +holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who +interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three +separate men could each have three wishes from it.” +</p> + +<p> +His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light +laughter jarred somewhat. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly. +</p> + +<p> +The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard +presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face whitened. +</p> + +<p> +“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White. +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong +teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady. +</p> + +<p> +“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know what +the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got the paw.” +</p> + +<p> +His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group. +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then, Morris,” said +the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?” +</p> + +<p> +The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did have +some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused enough +mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a fairy tale; some +of them, and those who do think anything of it want to try it first and pay me +afterward.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him keenly, +“would you have them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, suddenly +threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down and snatched it +off. +</p> + +<p> +“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you keep it, +don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again like a sensible +man.” +</p> + +<p> +The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How do you +do it?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the sergeant-major, “but I +warn you of the consequences.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sounds like the <i>Arabian Nights</i>,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and began +to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs of hands for +me?” +</p> + +<p> +Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst into +laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by +the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his +friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly +forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a +second instalment of the soldier’s adventures in India. +</p> + +<p> +“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he has been +telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their guest, just in time +for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make much out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White, regarding her +husband closely. +</p> + +<p> +“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made him +take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be rich, +and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin with; then you +can’t be henpecked.” +</p> + +<p> +He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an +antimacassar. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t know +what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems to me I’ve got +all I want.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?” said +Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two hundred pounds, +then; that’ll just do it.” +</p> + +<p> +His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as +his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down +at the piano and struck a few impressive chords. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly. +</p> + +<p> +A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a shuddering cry +from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and placed it on +the table, “and I bet I never shall.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it gave me a +shock all the same.” +</p> + +<p> +They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. +Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously at +the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled +upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed,” +said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something horrible squatting up +on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains.” +</p> + +<p> +He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces in it. +The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement. +It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a +glass containing a little water to throw over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s +paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed. +</p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p> +In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the +breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic +wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the +dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness +which betokened no great belief in its virtues. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea of our +listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these days? And if +they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?” +</p> + +<p> +“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert. +</p> + +<p> +“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that you +might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as he rose +from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we +shall have to disown you.” +</p> + +<p> +His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road; +and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her +husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the +door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to +retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought +a tailor’s bill. +</p> + +<p> +“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes +home,” she said, as they sat at dinner. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for all that, +the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.” +</p> + +<p> +“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly. +</p> + +<p> +“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I had just—- +What’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man +outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be +trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the two hundred +pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of +glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again. +The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution +flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her +hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that +useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair. +</p> + +<p> +She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at +her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized +for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s coat, a garment which he +usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as patiently as her sex would +permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent. +</p> + +<p> +“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of +cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Muggins.’” +</p> + +<p> +The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked, breathlessly. “Has +anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is it?” +</p> + +<p> +Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit down, +and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m sure, sir;” and +he eyed the other wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry—” began the visitor. +</p> + +<p> +“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly. +</p> + +<p> +The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is not in +any pain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for that! +Thank—” +</p> + +<p> +She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her +and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s averted face. +She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her +trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence. +</p> + +<p> +“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, “yes.” +</p> + +<p> +He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand between +his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting-days nearly +forty years before. +</p> + +<p> +“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the visitor. “It +is hard.” +</p> + +<p> +The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm wished me +to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss,” he said, without +looking round. “I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and +merely obeying orders.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring, and her +breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his friend the +sergeant might have carried into his first action. +</p> + +<p> +“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,” continued +the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son’s +services, they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of +horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How much?” +</p> + +<p> +“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands +like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor. +</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p> +In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their +dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over +so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state +of expectation as though of something else to happen —something else which was +to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts to bear. +</p> + +<p> +But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the hopeless +resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes they hardly +exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and their days were +long to weariness. +</p> + +<p> +It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night, +stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in darkness, and +the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He raised himself in bed and +listened. +</p> + +<p> +“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh. +</p> + +<p> +The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his eyes +heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden wild cry +from his wife awoke him with a start. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>The paw!</i>” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!” +</p> + +<p> +He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said, quietly. +“You’ve not destroyed it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?” +</p> + +<p> +She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I think of it +before? Why didn’t <i>you</i> think of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Think of what?” he questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it +quickly, and wish our boy alive again.” +</p> + +<p> +The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. “Good +God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!” +</p> + +<p> +Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he said, +unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.” +</p> + +<p> +“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why not the +second?” +</p> + +<p> +“A coincidence,” stammered the old man. +</p> + +<p> +“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement. +</p> + +<p> +The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been dead ten +days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could only recognize him +by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. “Do you +think I fear the child I have nursed?” +</p> + +<p> +He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then to the +mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the +unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from +the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost +the direction of the door. His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the +table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage +with the unwholesome thing in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white and +expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. He was +afraid of her. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wish!</i>” she cried, in a strong voice. +</p> + +<p> +“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wish!</i>” repeated his wife. +</p> + +<p> +He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.” +</p> + +<p> +The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he sank +trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked to the +window and raised the blind. +</p> + +<p> +He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the figure +of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, which had burned +below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing pulsating shadows on the +ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger than the rest, it expired. The +old man, with an unspeakable sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, +crept back to his bed, and a minute or two afterward the old woman came +silently and apathetically beside him. +</p> + +<p> +Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair +creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness +was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, he took +the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle. +</p> + +<p> +At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another; +and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely +audible, sounded on the front door. +</p> + +<p> +The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood motionless, +his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled +swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded +through the house. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus02"></a> +<img src="images/002.jpg" width="451" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“What’s that?” cried the old woman.</p> +</div> + +<p> +“<i>What’s that?</i>” cried the old woman, starting up. +</p> + +<p> +“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the house. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!” +</p> + +<p> +She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the +arm, held her tightly. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I forgot it +was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I must open the door.” +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m coming, +Herbert; I’m coming.” +</p> + +<p> +There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench broke +free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, and called +after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back +and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then the old +woman’s voice, strained and panting. +</p> + +<p> +“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.” +</p> + +<p> +But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in +search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside got in. A +perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the +scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door. He +heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly back, and at the same moment +he found the monkey’s paw, and frantically breathed his third and last wish. +</p> + +<p> +The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the +house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind rushed +up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his +wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The +street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>BILL’S PAPER CHASE</h2> + +<p> +Sailormen ’ave their faults, said the night watchman, frankly. I’m not denying +of it. I used to ’ave myself when I was at sea, but being close with their +money is a fault as can seldom be brought ag’in ’em. +</p> + +<p> +I saved some money once—two golden sovereigns, owing to a ’ole in my pocket. +Before I got another ship I slept two nights on a doorstep and ’ad nothing to +eat, and I found them two sovereigns in the lining o’ my coat when I was over +two thousand miles away from the nearest pub. +</p> + +<p> +I on’y knew one miser all the years I was at sea. Thomas Geary ’is name was, +and we was shipmates aboard the barque <i>Grenada</i>, homeward bound from +Sydney to London. +</p> + +<p> +Thomas was a man that was getting into years; sixty, I think ’e was, and old +enough to know better. ’E’d been saving ’ard for over forty years, and as near +as we could make out ’e was worth a matter o’ six ’undered pounds. He used to +be fond o’ talking about it, and letting us know how much better off ’e was +than any of the rest of us. +</p> + +<p> +We was about a month out from Sydney when old Thomas took sick. Bill Hicks said +that it was owing to a ha’penny he couldn’t account for; but Walter Jones, +whose family was always ill, and thought ’e knew a lot about it, said that ’e +knew wot it was, but ’e couldn’t remember the name of it, and that when we got +to London and Thomas saw a doctor, we should see as ’ow ’e was right. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever it was the old man got worse and worse. The skipper came down and gave +’im some physic and looked at ’is tongue, and then ’e looked at our tongues to +see wot the difference was. Then ’e left the cook in charge of ’im and went +off. +</p> + +<p> +The next day Thomas was worse, and it was soon clear to everybody but ’im that +’e was slipping ’is cable. He wouldn’t believe it at first, though the cook +told ’im, Bill Hicks told him, and Walter Jones ’ad a grandfather that went off +in just the same way. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not going to die,” says Thomas “How can I die and leave all that money?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’ll be good for your relations, Thomas,” says Walter Jones. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t got any,” says the old man. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, your friends, then, Thomas,” says Walter, soft-like. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t got any,” says the old man ag’in. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you ’ave, Thomas,” says Walter, with a kind smile; “I could tell you one +you’ve got.” +</p> + +<p> +Thomas shut his eyes at ’im and began to talk pitiful about ’is money and the +’ard work ’e’d ’ad saving of it. And by-and-by ’e got worse, and didn’t +reckernise us, but thought we was a pack o’ greedy, drunken sailormen. He +thought Walter Jones was a shark, and told ’im so, and, try all ’e could, +Walter couldn’t persuade ’im different. +</p> + +<p> +He died the day arter. In the morning ’e was whimpering about ’is money ag’in, +and angry with Bill when ’e reminded ’im that ’e couldn’t take it with ’im, and +’e made Bill promise that ’e should be buried just as ’e was. Bill tucked him +up arter that, and when ’e felt a canvas belt tied round the old man’s waist ’e +began to see wot ’e was driving at. +</p> + +<p> +The weather was dirty that day and there was a bit o’ sea running, consequently +all ’ands was on deck, and a boy about sixteen wot used to ’elp the steward +down aft was lookin’ arter Thomas. Me and Bill just run down to give a look at +the old man in time. +</p> + +<p> +“I <i>am</i> going to take it with me, Bill,” says the old man. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” says Bill. +</p> + +<p> +“My mind’s—easy now,” says Thomas. “I gave it to Jimmy—to—to—throw overboard +for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wot?</i>” says Bill, staring. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right, Bill,” says the boy. “He told me to. It was a little packet o’ +banknotes. He gave me tuppence for doing it.” +</p> + +<p> +Old Thomas seemed to be listening. ’Is eyes was open, and ’e looked artful at +Bill to think what a clever thing ’e’d done. +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody’s goin’-to spend-<i>my</i> money,” ’e says. “Nobody’s——” +</p> + +<p> +We drew back from ’is bunk and stood staring at ’im. Then Bill turned to the +boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Go and tell the skipper ’e’s gone,” ’e says, “and mind, for your own sake, +don’t tell the skipper or anybody else that you’ve thrown all that money +overboard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” says Jimmy. +</p> + +<p> +“Becos you’ll be locked up for it,” says Bill; “you’d no business to do it. +You’ve been and broke the law. It ought to ha’ been left to somebody.” +</p> + +<p> +Jimmy looked scared, and arter ’e was gone I turned to Bill, and I looks at ’im +and I says “What’s the little game, Bill?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Game?</i>” said Bill, snorting at me. “I don’t want the pore boy to get +into trouble, do I? Pore little chap. You was young yourself once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I says; “but I’m a bit older now, Bill, and unless you tell me what your +little game is, I shall tell the skipper myself, and the chaps too. Pore old +Thomas told ’im to do it, so where’s the boy to blame?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think Jimmy <i>did?</i>” says Bill, screwing up his nose at me. “That +little varmint is walking about worth six ’undered quid. Now you keep your +mouth shut and I’ll make it worth your while.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I see Bill’s game. “All right, I’ll keep quiet for the sake of my half,” I +says, looking at ’im. +</p> + +<p> +I thought he’d ha’ choked, and the langwidge ’e see fit to use was a’most as +much as I could answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then,” ’e says, at last, “halves it is. It ain’t robbery becos it +belongs to nobody, and it ain’t the boy’s becos ’e was told to throw it +overboard.” +</p> + +<p> +They buried pore old Thomas next morning, and arter it was all over Bill put +’is ’and on the boy’s shoulder as they walked for’ard and ’e says, “Poor old +Thomas ’as gone to look for ’is money,” he says; “wonder whether ’e’ll find it! +Was it a big bundle, Jimmy?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” says the boy, shaking ’is ’ead. “They was six ’undered pound notes and +two sovereigns, and I wrapped the sovereigns up in the notes to make ’em sink. +Fancy throwing money away like that, Bill: seems a sin, don’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +Bill didn’t answer ’im, and that afternoon the other chaps below being asleep +we searched ’is bunk through and through without any luck, and at last Bill sat +down and swore ’e must ha’ got it about ’im. +</p> + +<p> +We waited till night, and when everybody was snoring ’ard we went over to the +boy’s bunk and went all through ’is pockets and felt the linings, and then we +went back to our side and Bill said wot ’e thought about Jimmy in whispers. +</p> + +<p> +“He must ha’ got it tied round ’is waist next to ’is skin, like Thomas ’ad,” I +says. +</p> + +<p> +We stood there in the dark whispering, and then Bill couldn’t stand it any +longer, and ’e went over on tiptoe to the bunk ag’in. He was tremblin’ with +excitement and I wasn’t much better, when all of a sudden the cook sat up in +’is bunk with a dreadful laughing scream and called out that somebody was +ticklin’ ’im. +</p> + +<p> +I got into my bunk and Bill got into ’is, and we lay there listening while the +cook, who was a terrible ticklish man, leaned out of ’is bunk and said wot ’e’d +do if it ’appened ag’in. +</p> + +<p> +“Go to sleep,” says Walter Jones; “you’re dreamin’. Who d’you think would want +to tickle you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you,” says the cook, “somebody come over and tickled me with a ’and the +size of a leg o’ mutton. I feel creepy all over.” +</p> + +<p> +Bill gave it up for that night, but the next day ’e pretended to think Jimmy +was gettin’ fat an’ ’e caught ’old of ’im and prodded ’im all over. He thought +’e felt something round ’is waist, but ’e couldn’t be sure, and Jimmy made such +a noise that the other chaps interfered and told Bill to leave ’im alone. For a +whole week we tried to find that money, and couldn’t, and Bill said it was a +suspicious thing that Jimmy kept aft a good deal more than ’e used to, and ’e +got an idea that the boy might ha’ ’idden it somewhere there. At the end of +that time, ’owever, owing to our being short-’anded, Jimmy was sent for’ard to +work as ordinary seaman, and it began to be quite noticeable the way ’e avoided +Bill. +</p> + +<p> +At last one day we got ’im alone down the fo’c’sle, and Bill put ’is arm round +’im and got im on the locker and asked ’im straight out where the money was. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I chucked it overboard,” he says. “I told you so afore. What a memory +you’ve got, Bill!” +</p> + +<p> +Bill picked ’im up and laid ’im on the locker, and we searched ’im thoroughly. +We even took ’is boots off, and then we ’ad another look in ’is bunk while ’e +was putting ’em on ag’in. +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re innercent,” says Bill, “why don’t you call out?—eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because you told me not to say anything about it, Bill,” says the boy. “But I +will next time. Loud, I will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Look ’ere,” says Bill, “you tell us where it is, and the three of us’ll go +shares in it. That’ll be two ’undered pounds each, and we’ll tell you ’ow to +get yours changed without getting caught. We’re cleverer than you are, you +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know that, Bill,” says the boy; “but it’s no good me telling you lies. I +chucked it overboard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, then,” says Bill, getting up. “I’m going to tell the skipper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell ’im,” says Jimmy. “I don’t care.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you’ll be searched <i>arter you’ve stepped ashore</i>,” says Bill, “and +you won’t be allowed on the ship ag’in. You’ll lose it all by being greedy, +whereas if you go shares with us you’ll ’ave two ’undered pounds.” +</p> + +<p> +I could see as ’ow the boy ’adn’t thought o’ that, and try as ’e would ’e +couldn’t ’ide ’is feelin’s. He called Bill a red-nosed shark, and ’e called me +somethin’ I’ve forgotten now. +</p> + +<p> +“Think it over,” says Bill; “mind, you’ll be collared as soon as you’ve left +the gangway and searched by the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“And will they tickle the cook too, I wonder?” says Jimmy, savagely. +</p> + +<p> +“And if they find it you’ll go to prison,” says Bill, giving ’im a clump o’ the +side o’ the ’ead, “and you won’t like that, I can tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, ain’t it nice, Bill?” says Jimmy, holding ’is ear. +</p> + +<p> +Bill looked at ’im and then ’e steps to the ladder. “I’m not going to talk to +you any more, my lad,” ’e says. “I’m going to tell the skipper.” +</p> + +<p> +He went up slowly, and just as ’e reached the deck Jimmy started up and called +’im. Bill pretended not to ’ear, and the boy ran up on deck and follered ’im; +and arter a little while they both came down again together. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you wish to speak to me, my lad?” says Bill, ’olding ’is ’ead up. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” says the boy, fiddling with ’is fingers; “if you keep your ugly mouth +shut, we’ll go shares.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ho!” says Bill, “I thought you throwed it overboard!” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought so, too, Bill,” says Jimmy, very softly, “and when I came below +ag’in I found it in my trousers pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is it now?” says Bill. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind where it is,” says the boy; “you couldn’t get it if I was to tell +you. It’ll take me all my time to do it myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is it?” says Bill, ag’in. “I’m goin’ to take care of it. I won’t trust +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I can’t trust you,” says Jimmy. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t tell me where it is this minute,” says Bill, moving to the ladder +ag’in, “I’m off to tell the skipper. I want it in my ’ands, or at any rate my +share of it. Why not share it out now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I ’aven’t got it,” says Jimmy, stamping ’is foot, “that’s why, and +it’s all your silly fault. Arter you came pawing through my pockets when you +thought I was asleep I got frightened and ’id it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” says Bill. +</p> + +<p> +“In the second mate’s mattress,” says Jimmy. “I was tidying up down aft and I +found a ’ole in the underneath side of ’is mattress and I shoved it in there, +and poked it in with a bit o’ stick.” +</p> + +<p> +“And ’ow are you going to get it?” says Bill, scratching ’is ’ead. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s wot I don’t know, seeing that I’m not allowed aft now,” says Jimmy. +“One of us’ll ’ave to make a dash for it when we get to London. And mind if +there’s any ’ankypanky on your part, Bill, I’ll give the show away myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The cook came down just then and we ’ad to leave off talking, and I could see +that Bill was so pleased at finding that the money ’adn’t been thrown overboard +that ’e was losing sight o’ the difficulty o’ getting at it. In a day or two, +’owever, ’e see it as plain as me and Jimmy did, and, as time went by, he got +desprit, and frightened us both by ’anging about aft every chance ’e got. +</p> + +<p> +The companion-way faced the wheel, and there was about as much chance o’ +getting down there without being seen as there would be o’ taking a man’s false +teeth out of ’is mouth without ’is knowing it. Jimmy went down one day while +Bill was at the wheel to look for ’is knife, wot ’e thought ’e’d left down +there, and ’ed ’ardly got down afore Bill saw ’im come up ag’in, ’olding on to +the top of a mop which the steward was using. +</p> + +<p> +We couldn’t figure it out nohow, and to think o’ the second mate, a little man +with a large fam’ly, who never ’ad a penny in ’is pocket, sleeping every night +on a six ’undered pound mattress, sent us pretty near crazy. We used to talk it +over whenever we got a chance, and Bill and Jimmy could scarcely be civil to +each other. The boy said it was Bill’s fault, and ’e said it was the boy’s. +</p> + +<p> +“The on’y thing I can see,” says the boy, one day, “is for Bill to ’ave a touch +of sunstroke as ’e’s leaving the wheel one day, tumble ’ead-first down the +companion-way, and injure ’isself so severely that ’e can’t be moved. Then +they’ll put ’im in a cabin down aft, and p’raps I’ll ’ave to go and nurse ’im. +Anyway, <i>he’ll</i> be down there.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a very good idea, Bill,” I says. +</p> + +<p> +“Ho,” says Bill, looking at me as if ’e would eat me. “Why don’t you do it, +then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d sooner you did it, Bill,” says the boy; “still, I don’t mind which it is. +Why not toss up for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Get away,” says Bill. “Get away afore I do something you won’t like, you +blood-thirsty little murderer.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got a plan myself,” he says, in a low voice, after the boy ’ad ’opped +off, “and if I can’t think of nothing better I’ll try it, and mind, not a word +to the boy.” +</p> + +<p> +He didn’t think o’ nothing better, and one night just as we was making the +Channel ’e tried ’is plan. He was in the second mate’s watch, and by-and-by ’e +leans over the wheel and says to ’im in a low voice, “This is my last v’y’ge, +sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” says the second mate, who was a man as didn’t mind talking to a man +before the mast. “How’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got a berth ashore, sir,” says Bill, “and I wanted to ask a favour, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +The second mate growled and walked off a pace or two. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never been so ’appy as I’ve been on this ship,” says Bill; “none of us +’ave. We was saying so the other night, and everybody agreed as it was owing to +you, sir, and your kindness to all of us.” +</p> + +<p> +The second mate coughed, but Bill could see as ’e was a bit pleased. +</p> + +<p> +“The feeling came over me,” says Bill, “that when I leave the sea for good I’d +like to ’ave something o’ yours to remember you by, sir. And it seemed to me +that if I ’ad your—mattress I should think of you ev’ry night o’ my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“My <i>wot?</i>” says the second mate, staring at ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“Your mattress, sir,” says Bill. “If I might make so bold as to offer a pound +for it, sir. I want something wot’s been used by you, and I’ve got a fancy for +that as a keepsake.” +</p> + +<p> +The second mate shook ’is ’ead. “I’m sorry, Bill,” ’e says, gently, “but I +couldn’t let it go at that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d sooner pay thirty shillin’s than not ’ave it, sir,” says Bill, ’umbly. +</p> + +<p> +“I gave a lot of money for that mattress,” says the mate, ag’in. “I forgit ’ow +much, but a lot. You don’t know ’ow valuable that mattress is.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it’s a good one, sir, else you wouldn’t ’ave it,” says Bill. “Would a +couple o’ pounds buy it, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +The second mate hum’d and ha’d, but Bill was afeard to go any ’igher. So far as +’e could make out from Jimmy, the mattress was worth about eighteen pence—to +anybody who wasn’t pertiklar. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve slept on that mattress for years,” says the second mate, looking at ’im +from the corner of ’is eye. “I don’t believe I could sleep on another. Still, +to oblige you, Bill, you shall ’ave it at that if you don’t want it till we go +ashore?” +</p> + +<p> +“Thankee, sir,” says Bill, ’ardly able to keep from dancing, “and I’ll ’and +over the two pounds when we’re paid off. I shall keep it all my life, sir, in +memory of you and your kindness.” +</p> + +<p> +“And mind you keep quiet about it,” says the second mate, who didn’t want the +skipper to know wot ’e’d been doing, “because I don’t want to be bothered by +other men wanting to buy things as keepsakes.” +</p> + +<p> +Bill promised ’im like a shot, and when ’e told me about it ’e was nearly +crying with joy. +</p> + +<p> +“And mind,” ’e says, “I’ve bought that mattress, bought it as it stands, and +it’s got nothing to do with Jimmy. We’ll each pay a pound and halve wot’s in +it.” +</p> + +<p> +He persuaded me at last, but that boy watched us like a cat watching a couple +of canaries, and I could see we should ’ave all we could do to deceive +’<i>im</i>. He seemed more suspicious o’ Bill than me, and ’e kep’ worrying us +nearly every day to know what we were going to do. +</p> + +<p> +We beat about in the channel with a strong ’ead-wind for four days, and then a +tug picked us up and towed us to London. +</p> + +<p> +The excitement of that last little bit was ’orrible. Fust of all we ’ad got to +get the mattress, and then in some way we ’ad got to get rid o’ Jimmy. Bill’s +idea was for me to take ’im ashore with me and tell ’im that Bill would join us +arterwards, and then lose ’im; but I said that till I’d got my share I couldn’t +bear to lose sight o’ Bill’s honest face for ’alf a second. +</p> + +<p> +And, besides, Jimmy wouldn’t ’ave gone. +</p> + +<p> +All the way up the river ’e stuck to Bill, and kept asking ’im wot we were to +do. ’E was ’alf crying, and so excited that Bill was afraid the other chaps +would notice it. +</p> + +<p> +We got to our berth in the East India Docks at last, and arter we were made +fast we went below to ’ave a wash and change into our shoregoing togs. Jimmy +watched us all the time, and then ’e comes up to Bill biting ’is nails, and +says: +</p> + +<p> +“How’s it to be done, Bill?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hang about arter the rest ’ave gone ashore, and trust to luck,” says Bill, +looking at me. “We’ll see ’ow the land lays when we draw our advance.” +</p> + +<p> +We went down aft to draw ten shillings each to go ashore with. Bill and me got +ours fust, and then the second mate who ’ad tipped ’im the wink followed us out +unconcerned-like and ’anded Bill the mattress rolled up in a sack. +</p> + +<p> +“’Ere you are, Bill,” ’e says. +</p> + +<p> +“Much obliged, sir,” says Bill, and ’is ’ands trembled so as ’e could ’ardly +’old it, and ’e made to go off afore Jimmy come on deck. +</p> + +<p> +Then that fool of a mate kept us there while ’e made a little speech. Twice +Bill made to go off, but ’e put ’is ’and on ’is arm and kept ’im there while ’e +told ’im ’ow he’d always tried to be liked by the men, and ’ad generally +succeeded, and in the middle of it up popped Master Jimmy. +</p> + +<p> +He gave a start as he saw the bag, and ’is eyes opened wide, and then as we +walked forward ’e put ’is arm through Bill’s and called ’im all the names ’e +could think of. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d steal the milk out of a cat’s saucer,” ’e says; “but mind, you don’t +leave this ship till I’ve got my share.” +</p> + +<p> +“I meant it for a pleasant surprise for you, Jimmy,” says Bill, trying to +smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like your surprises, Bill, so I don’t deceive you,” says the boy. +“Where are you going to open it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinking of opening it in my bunk,” says Bill. “The perlice might want +to examine it if we took it through the dock. Come on, Jimmy, old man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; all right,” says the boy, nodding ’is ’ead at ’im. “I’ll stay up ’ere. +You might forget yourself, Bill, if I trusted myself down there with you alone. +You can throw my share up to me, and then you’ll leave the ship afore I do. +See?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go to blazes,” says Bill; and then, seeing that the last chance ’ad gone, we +went below, and ’e chucked the bundle in ’is bunk. There was only one chap down +there, and arter spending best part o’ ten minutes doing ’is hair ’e nodded to +us and went off. +</p> + +<p> +Half a minute later Bill cut open the mattress and began to search through the +stuffing, while I struck matches and watched ’im. It wasn’t a big mattress and +there wasn’t much stuffing, but we couldn’t seem to see that money. Bill went +all over it ag’in and ag’in, and then ’e stood up and looked at me and caught +’is breath painful. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think the mate found it?” ’e says, in a ’usky voice. +</p> + +<p> +We went through it ag’in, and then Bill went half-way up the fo’c’s’le ladder +and called softly for Jimmy. He called three times, and then, with a sinking +sensation in ’is stummick, ’e went up on deck and I follered ’im. The boy was +nowhere to be seen. All we saw was the ship’s cat ’aving a wash and brush-up +afore going ashore, and the skipper standing aft talking to the owner. +</p> + +<p> +We never saw that boy ag’in. He never turned up for ’is box, and ’e didn’t show +up to draw ’is pay. Everybody else was there, of course, and arter I’d got mine +and come outside I see pore Bill with ’is back up ag’in a wall, staring ’ard at +the second mate, who was looking at ’im with a kind smile, and asking ’im ’ow +he’d slept. The last thing I saw of Bill, the pore chap ’ad got ’is ’ands in +’is trousers pockets, and was trying ’is hardest to smile back. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>THE WELL</h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p> +Two men stood in the billiard-room of an old country house, talking. Play, +which had been of a half-hearted nature, was over, and they sat at the open +window, looking out over the park stretching away beneath them, conversing +idly. +</p> + +<p> +“Your time’s nearly up, Jem,” said one at length, “this time six weeks you’ll +be yawning out the honeymoon and cursing the man—woman I mean— who invented +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Jem Benson stretched his long limbs in the chair and grunted in dissent. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never understood it,” continued Wilfred Carr, yawning. “It’s not in my +line at all; I never had enough money for my own wants, let alone for two. +Perhaps if I were as rich as you or Crœsus I might regard it differently.” +</p> + +<p> +There was just sufficient meaning in the latter part of the remark for his +cousin to forbear to reply to it. He continued to gaze out of the window and to +smoke slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Not being as rich as Crœsus—or you,” resumed Carr, regarding him from beneath +lowered lids, “I paddle my own canoe down the stream of Time, and, tying it to +my friends’ door-posts, go in to eat their dinners.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite Venetian,” said Jem Benson, still looking out of the window. “It’s not a +bad thing for you, Wilfred, that you have the doorposts and dinners—and +friends.” +</p> + +<p> +Carr grunted in his turn. “Seriously though, Jem,” he said, slowly, “you’re a +lucky fellow, a very lucky fellow. If there is a better girl above ground than +Olive, I should like to see her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the other, quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s such an exceptional girl,” continued Carr, staring out of the window. +“She’s so good and gentle. She thinks you are a bundle of all the virtues.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed frankly and joyously, but the other man did not join him. “Strong +sense—of right and wrong, though,” continued Carr, musingly. “Do you know, I +believe that if she found out that you were not—-” +</p> + +<p> +“Not what?” demanded Benson, turning upon him fiercely, “Not what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything that you are,” returned his cousin, with a grin that belied his +words, “I believe she’d drop you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Talk about something else,” said Benson, slowly; “your pleasantries are not +always in the best taste.” +</p> + +<p> +Wilfred Carr rose and taking a cue from the rack, bent over the board and +practiced one or two favourite shots. “The only other subject I can talk about +just at present is my own financial affairs,” he said slowly, as he walked +round the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Talk about something else,” said Benson again, bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +“And the two things are connected,” said Carr, and dropping his cue he half sat +on the table and eyed his cousin. +</p> + +<p> +There was a long silence. Benson pitched the end of his cigar out of the +window, and leaning back closed his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you follow me?” inquired Carr at length. +</p> + +<p> +Benson opened his eyes and nodded at the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want to follow my cigar?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I should prefer to depart by the usual way for your sake,” returned the other, +unabashed. “If I left by the window all sorts of questions would be asked, and +you know what a talkative chap I am.” +</p> + +<p> +“So long as you don’t talk about my affairs,” returned the other, restraining +himself by an obvious effort, “you can talk yourself hoarse.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m in a mess,” said Carr, slowly, “a devil of a mess. If I don’t raise +fifteen hundred by this day fortnight, I may be getting my board and lodging +free.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would that be any change?” questioned Benson. +</p> + +<p> +“The quality would,” retorted the other. “The address also would not be good. +Seriously, Jem, will you let me have the fifteen hundred?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the other, simply. +</p> + +<p> +Carr went white. “It’s to save me from ruin,” he said, thickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve helped you till I’m tired,” said Benson, turning and regarding him, “and +it is all to no good. If you’ve got into a mess, get out of it. You should not +be so fond of giving autographs away.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s foolish, I admit,” said Carr, deliberately. “I won’t do so any more. By +the way, I’ve got some to sell. You needn’t sneer. They’re not my own.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whose are they?” inquired the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Yours.” +</p> + +<p> +Benson got up from his chair and crossed over to him. “What is this?” he asked, +quietly. “Blackmail?” +</p> + +<p> +“Call it what you like,” said Carr. “I’ve got some letters for sale, price +fifteen hundred. And I know a man who would buy them at that price for the mere +chance of getting Olive from you. I’ll give you first offer.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you have got any letters bearing my signature, you will be good enough to +give them to me,” said Benson, very slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re mine,” said Carr, lightly; “given to me by the lady you wrote them to. +I must say that they are not all in the best possible taste.” +</p> + +<p> +His cousin reached forward suddenly, and catching him by the collar of his coat +pinned him down on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me those letters,” he breathed, sticking his face close to Carr’s. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re not here,” said Carr, struggling. “I’m not a fool. Let me go, or I’ll +raise the price.” +</p> + +<p> +The other man raised him from the table in his powerful hands, apparently with +the intention of dashing his head against it. Then suddenly his hold relaxed as +an astonished-looking maid-servant entered the room with letters. Carr sat up +hastily. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s how it was done,” said Benson, for the girl’s benefit as he took the +letters. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t wonder at the other man making him pay for it, then,” said Carr, +blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“You will give me those letters?” said Benson, suggestively, as the girl left +the room. +</p> + +<p> +“At the price I mentioned, yes,” said Carr; “but so sure as I am a living man, +if you lay your clumsy hands on me again, I’ll double it. Now, I’ll leave you +for a time while you think it over.” +</p> + +<p> +He took a cigar from the box and lighting it carefully quitted the room. His +cousin waited until the door had closed behind him, and then turning to the +window sat there in a fit of fury as silent as it was terrible. +</p> + +<p> +The air was fresh and sweet from the park, heavy with the scent of new-mown +grass. The fragrance of a cigar was now added to it, and glancing out he saw +his cousin pacing slowly by. He rose and went to the door, and then, apparently +altering his mind, he returned to the window and watched the figure of his +cousin as it moved slowly away into the moonlight. Then he rose again, and, for +a long time, the room was empty. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +It was empty when Mrs. Benson came in some time later to say good-night to her +son on her way to bed. She walked slowly round the table, and pausing at the +window gazed from it in idle thought, until she saw the figure of her son +advancing with rapid strides toward the house. He looked up at the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night,” said she. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night,” said Benson, in a deep voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Wilfred?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he has gone,” said Benson. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone?” +</p> + +<p> +“We had a few words; he was wanting money again, and I gave him a piece of my +mind. I don’t think we shall see him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Wilfred!” sighed Mrs. Benson. “He is always in trouble of some sort. I +hope that you were not too hard upon him.” +</p> + +<p> +“No more than he deserved,” said her son, sternly. “Good night.” +</p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p> +The well, which had long ago fallen into disuse, was almost hidden by the thick +tangle of undergrowth which ran riot at that corner of the old park. It was +partly covered by the shrunken half of a lid, above which a rusty windlass +creaked in company with the music of the pines when the wind blew strongly. The +full light of the sun never reached it, and the ground surrounding it was moist +and green when other parts of the park were gaping with the heat. +</p> + +<p> +Two people walking slowly round the park in the fragrant stillness of a summer +evening strayed in the direction of the well. +</p> + +<p> +“No use going through this wilderness, Olive,” said Benson, pausing on the +outskirts of the pines and eyeing with some disfavour the gloom beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“Best part of the park,” said the girl briskly; “you know it’s my favourite +spot.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know you’re very fond of sitting on the coping,” said the man slowly, “and I +wish you wouldn’t. One day you will lean back too far and fall in.” +</p> + +<p> +“And make the acquaintance of Truth,” said Olive lightly. “Come along.” +</p> + +<p> +She ran from him and was lost in the shadow of the pines, the bracken crackling +beneath her feet as she ran. Her companion followed slowly, and emerging from +the gloom saw her poised daintily on the edge of the well with her feet hidden +in the rank grass and nettles which surrounded it. She motioned her companion +to take a seat by her side, and smiled softly as she felt a strong arm passed +about her waist. +</p> + +<p> +“I like this place,” said she, breaking a long silence, “it is so dismal —so +uncanny. Do you know I wouldn’t dare to sit here alone, Jem. I should imagine +that all sorts of dreadful things were hidden behind the bushes and trees, +waiting to spring out on me. Ugh!” +</p> + +<p> +“You’d better let me take you in,” said her companion tenderly; “the well isn’t +always wholesome, especially in the hot weather. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s make a move.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl gave an obstinate little shake, and settled herself more securely on +her seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Smoke your cigar in peace,” she said quietly. “I am settled here for a quiet +talk. Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn’t it?” she continued. “Another scrape, I +suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain; ‘Dear Jem, help me +out.’” +</p> + +<p> +Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding his cigar +between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder what he would have done without you,” said the girl, pressing his arm +affectionately. “Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we are married, Jem, I +shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. He is very wild, but he has +his good points, poor fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never saw them,” said Benson, with startling bitterness. “God knows I never +saw them.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is nobody’s enemy but his own,” said the girl, startled by this outburst. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know much about him,” said the other, sharply. “He was not above +blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself a benefit. A +loafer, a cur, and a liar!” +</p> + +<p> +The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without a word, +and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and the beams of the +moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them with a silver network. +Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly with a sharp cry she sprang to +her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“What was that?” she cried breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“What was what?” demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast by the +arm. +</p> + +<p> +She caught her breath and tried to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re hurting me, Jem.” +</p> + +<p> +His hold relaxed. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” he asked gently. +</p> + +<p> +“What was it startled you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was startled,” she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder. “I +suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but I fancied that +somebody behind us whispered ‘<i>Jem, help me out</i>.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Fancy,” repeated Benson, and his voice shook; “but these fancies are not good +for you. You—are frightened—at the dark and the gloom of these trees. Let me +take you back to the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m not frightened,” said the girl, reseating herself. “I should never be +really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I’m surprised at +myself for being so silly.” +</p> + +<p> +The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or two from the +well, as though waiting for her to join him. +</p> + +<p> +“Come and sit down, sir,” cried Olive, patting the brickwork with her small, +white hand, “one would think that you did not like your company.” +</p> + +<p> +He obeyed slowly and took a seat by her side, drawing so hard at his cigar that +the light of it shone upon his face at every breath. He passed his arm, firm +and rigid as steel, behind her, with his hand resting on the brickwork beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you warm enough?” he asked tenderly, as she made a little movement. +“Pretty fair,” she shivered; “one oughtn’t to be cold at this time of the year, +but there’s a cold, damp air comes up from the well.” +</p> + +<p> +As she spoke a faint splash sounded from the depths below, and for the second +time that evening, she sprang from the well with a little cry of dismay. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it now?” he asked in a fearful voice. He stood by her side and gazed +at the well, as though half expecting to see the cause of her alarm emerge from +it. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my bracelet,” she cried in distress, “my poor mother’s bracelet. I’ve +dropped it down the well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your bracelet!” repeated Benson, dully. “Your bracelet? The diamond one?” +</p> + +<p> +“The one that was my mother’s,” said Olive. “Oh, we can get it back surely. We +must have the water drained off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your bracelet!” repeated Benson, stupidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Jem,” said the girl in terrified tones, “dear Jem, what is the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +For the man she loved was standing regarding her with horror. The moon which +touched it was not responsible for all the whiteness of the distorted face, and +she shrank back in fear to the edge of the well. He saw her fear and by a +mighty effort regained his composure and took her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor little girl,” he murmured, “you frightened me. I was not looking when you +cried, and I thought that you were slipping from my arms, down—down—” +</p> + +<p> +His voice broke, and the girl throwing herself into his arms clung to him +convulsively. +</p> + +<p> +“There, there,” said Benson, fondly, “don’t cry, don’t cry.” +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow,” said Olive, half-laughing, half-crying, “we will all come round +the well with hook and line and fish for it. It will be quite a new sport.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, we must try some other way,” said Benson. “You shall have it back.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” asked the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall see,” said Benson. “To-morrow morning at latest you shall have it +back. Till then promise me that you will not mention your loss to anyone. +Promise.” +</p> + +<p> +“I promise,” said Olive, wonderingly. “But why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is of great value, for one thing, and—But there—there are many reasons. For +one thing it is my duty to get it for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t you like to jump down for it?” she asked mischievously. “Listen.” +</p> + +<p> +She stooped for a stone and dropped it down. +</p> + +<p> +“Fancy being where that is now,” she said, peering into the blackness; “fancy +going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at the slimy sides, +with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to the little patch of sky +above.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better come in,” said Benson, very quietly. “You are developing a +taste for the morbid and horrible.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl turned, and taking his arm walked slowly in the direction of the +house; Mrs. Benson, who was sitting in the porch, rose to receive them. +</p> + +<p> +“You shouldn’t have kept her out so long,” she said chidingly. “Where have you +been?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sitting on the well,” said Olive, smiling, “discussing our future.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe that place is healthy,” said Mrs. Benson, emphatically. “I +really think it might be filled in, Jem.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said her son, slowly. “Pity it wasn’t filled in long ago.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house with Olive, +and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deep thought. After a +time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which was set apart for sporting +requisites selected a sea fishing line and some hooks and stole softly +downstairs again. He walked swiftly across the park in the direction of the +well, turning before he entered the shadow of the trees to look back at the +lighted windows of the house. Then having arranged his line he sat on the edge +of the well and cautiously lowered it. +</p> + +<p> +He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in a startled +fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering at him from the +belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line until at length in pulling +it up he heard a little metallic tinkle against the side of the well. +</p> + +<p> +He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inch by +inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly, and his +eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catch hanging to the +hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in. Then he saw that +instead of the bracelet he had hooked a bunch of keys. +</p> + +<p> +With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, and stood +breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night. He walked up +and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he came back to the well +and resumed his task. +</p> + +<p> +For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In his eagerness he +forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fished slowly and carefully. +Twice the hook became entangled in something, and was with difficulty released. +It caught a third time, and all his efforts failed’ to free it. Then he dropped +the line down the well, and with head bent walked toward the house. +</p> + +<p> +He went first to the stables at the rear, and then retiring to his room for +some time paced restlessly up and down. Then without removing his clothes he +flung himself upon the bed and fell into a troubled sleep. +</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p> +Long before anybody else was astir he arose and stole softly downstairs. The +sunlight was stealing in at every crevice, and flashing in long streaks across +the darkened rooms. The dining-room into which he looked struck chill and +cheerless in the dark yellow light which came through the lowered blinds. He +remembered that it had the same appearance when his father lay dead in the +house; now, as then, everything seemed ghastly and unreal; the very chairs +standing as their occupants had left them the night before seemed to be +indulging in some dark communication of ideas. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly and noiselessly he opened the hall door and passed into the fragrant air +beyond. The sun was shining on the drenched grass and trees, and a slowly +vanishing white mist rolled like smoke about the grounds. For a moment he +stood, breathing deeply the sweet air of the morning, and then walked slowly in +the direction of the stables. +</p> + +<p> +The rusty creaking of a pump-handle and a spatter of water upon the red-tiled +courtyard showed that somebody else was astir, and a few steps farther he +beheld a brawny, sandy-haired man gasping wildly under severe self-infliction +at the pump. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything ready, George?” he asked quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said the man, straightening up suddenly and touching his forehead. +“Bob’s just finishing the arrangements inside. It’s a lovely morning for a dip. +The water in that well must be just icy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be as quick as you can,” said Benson, impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, sir,” said George, burnishing his face harshly with a very small +towel which had been hanging over the top of the pump. “Hurry up, Bob.” +</p> + +<p> +In answer to his summons a man appeared at the door of the stable with a coil +of stout rope over his arm and a large metal candlestick in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Just to try the air, sir,” said George, following his master’s glance, “a well +gets rather foul sometimes, but if a candle can live down it, a man can.” +</p> + +<p> +His master nodded, and the man, hastily pulling up the neck of his shirt and +thrusting his arms into his coat, followed him as he led the way slowly to the +well. +</p> + +<p> +“Beg pardon, sir,” said George, drawing up to his side, “but you are not +looking over and above well this morning. If you’ll let me go down I’d enjoy +the bath.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” said Benson, peremptorily. +</p> + +<p> +“You ain’t fit to go down, sir,” persisted his follower. “I’ve never seen you +look so before. Now if—” +</p> + +<p> +“Mind your business,” said his master curtly. +</p> + +<p> +George became silent and the three walked with swinging strides through the +long wet grass to the well. Bob flung the rope on the ground and at a sign from +his master handed him the candlestick. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s the line for it, sir,” said Bob, fumbling in his pockets. +</p> + +<p> +Benson took it from him and slowly tied it to the candlestick. Then he placed +it on the edge of the well, and striking a match, lit the candle and began +slowly to lower it. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold hard, sir,” said George, quickly, laying his hand on his arm, “you must +tilt it or the string’ll burn through.” +</p> + +<p> +Even as he spoke the string parted and the candlestick fell into the water +below. +</p> + +<p> +Benson swore quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll soon get another,” said George, starting up. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, the well’s all right,” said Benson. +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t take a moment, sir,” said the other over his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you master here, or am I?” said Benson hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +George came back slowly, a glance at his master’s face stopping the protest +upon his tongue, and he stood by watching him sulkily as he sat on the well and +removed his outer garments. Both men watched him curiously, as having completed +his preparations he stood grim and silent with his hands by his sides. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you’d let me go, sir,” said George, plucking up courage to address him. +“You ain’t fit to go, you’ve got a chill or something. I shouldn’t wonder it’s +the typhoid. They’ve got it in the village bad.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Benson looked at him angrily, then his gaze softened. “Not this +time, George,” he said, quietly. He took the looped end of the rope and placed +it under his arms, and sitting down threw one leg over the side of the well. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you going about it, sir?” queried George, laying hold of the rope and +signing to Bob to do the same. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll call out when I reach the water,” said Benson; “then pay out three yards +more quickly so that I can get to the bottom.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, sir,” answered both. +</p> + +<p> +Their master threw the other leg over the coping and sat motionless. His back +was turned toward the men as he sat with head bent, looking down the shaft. He +sat for so long that George became uneasy. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, sir?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Benson, slowly. “If I tug at the rope, George, pull up at once. +Lower away.” +</p> + +<p> +The rope passed steadily through their hands until a hollow cry from the +darkness below and a faint splashing warned them that he had reached the water. +They gave him three yards more and stood with relaxed grasp and strained ears, +waiting. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s gone under,” said Bob in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +The other nodded, and moistening his huge palms took a firmer grip of the rope. +</p> + +<p> +Fully a minute passed, and the men began to exchange uneasy glances. Then a +sudden tremendous jerk followed by a series of feebler ones nearly tore the +rope from their grasp. +</p> + +<p> +“Pull!” shouted George, placing one foot on the side and hauling desperately. +“Pull! pull! He’s stuck fast; he’s not coming; PULL!” +</p> + +<p> +In response to their terrific exertions the rope came slowly in, inch by inch, +until at length a violent splashing was heard, and at the same moment a scream +of unutterable horror came echoing up the shaft. +</p> + +<p> +“What a weight he is!” panted Bob. “He’s stuck fast or something. Keep still, +sir; for heaven’s sake, keep still.” +</p> + +<p> +For the taut rope was being jerked violently by the struggles of the weight at +the end of it. Both men with grunts and sighs hauled it in foot by foot. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, sir,” cried George, cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +He had one foot against the well, and was pulling manfully; the burden was +nearing the top. A long pull and a strong pull, and the face of a dead man with +mud in the eyes and nostrils came peering over the edge. Behind it was the +ghastly face of his master; but this he saw too late, for with a great cry he +let go his hold of the rope and stepped back. The suddenness overthrew his +assistant, and the rope tore through his hands. There was a frightful splash. +</p> + +<p> +“You fool!” stammered Bob, and ran to the well helplessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Run!” cried George. “Run for another line.” +</p> + +<p> +He bent over the coping and called eagerly down as his assistant sped back to +the stables shouting wildly. His voice re-echoed down the shaft, but all else +was silence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CUPBOARD LOVE</h2> + +<p> +In the comfortable living-room at Negget’s farm, half parlour and half kitchen, +three people sat at tea in the waning light of a November afternoon. +Conversation, which had been brisk, had languished somewhat, owing to Mrs. +Negget glancing at frequent intervals toward the door, behind which she was +convinced the servant was listening, and checking the finest periods and the +most startling suggestions with a warning ’<i>ssh!</i> +</p> + +<p> +“Go on, uncle,” she said, after one of these interruptions. +</p> + +<p> +“I forget where I was,” said Mr. Martin Bodfish, shortly. +</p> + +<p> +“Under our bed,” Mr. Negget reminded him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, watching,” said Mrs. Negget, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +It was an odd place for an ex-policeman, especially as a small legacy added to +his pension had considerably improved his social position, but Mr. Bodfish had +himself suggested it in the professional hope that the person who had taken +Mrs. Negget’s gold brooch might try for further loot. He had, indeed, suggested +baiting the dressing-table with the farmer’s watch, an idea which Mr. Negget +had promptly vetoed. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help thinking that Mrs. Pottle knows something about it,” said Mrs. +Negget, with an indignant glance at her husband. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Pottle,” said the farmer, rising slowly and taking a seat on the oak +settle built in the fireplace, “has been away from the village for near a +fortnit.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say she took it,” snapped his wife. “I said I believe she knows +something about it, and so I do. She’s a horrid woman. Look at the way she +encouraged her girl Looey to run after that young traveller from Smithson’s. +The whole fact of the matter is, it isn’t your brooch, so you don’t care.” +</p> + +<p> +“I said—” began Mr. Negget. +</p> + +<p> +“I know what you said,” retorted his wife, sharply, “and I wish you’d be quiet +and not interrupt uncle. Here’s my uncle been in the police twenty-five years, +and you won’t let him put a word in edgeways.’ +</p> + +<p> +“My way o’ looking at it,” said the ex-policeman, slowly, “is different to that +o’ the law; my idea is, an’ always has been, that everybody is guilty until +they’ve proved their innocence.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a wonderful thing to me,” said Mr. Negget in a low voice to his pipe, “as +they should come to a house with a retired policeman living in it. Looks to me +like somebody that ain’t got much respect for the police.” +</p> + +<p> +The ex-policeman got up from the table, and taking a seat on the settle +opposite the speaker, slowly filled a long clay and took a spill from the +fireplace. His pipe lit, he turned to his niece, and slowly bade her go over +the account of her loss once more. +</p> + +<p> +“I missed it this morning,” said Mrs. Negget, rapidly, “at ten minutes past +twelve o’clock by the clock, and half-past five by my watch which wants looking +to. I’d just put the batch of bread into the oven, and gone upstairs and opened +the box that stands on my drawers to get a lozenge, and I missed the brooch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you keep it in that box?” asked the ex-policeman, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Always,” replied his niece. “I at once came down stairs and told Emma that the +brooch had been stolen. I said that I named no names, and didn’t wish to think +bad of anybody, and that if I found the brooch back in the box when I went up +stairs again, I should forgive whoever took it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did Emma say?” inquired Mr. Bodfish. +</p> + +<p> +“Emma said a lot o’ things,” replied Mrs. Negget, angrily. “I’m sure by the lot +she had to say you’d ha’ thought she was the missis and me the servant. I gave +her a month’s notice at once, and she went straight up stairs and sat on her +box and cried.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sat on her box?” repeated the ex-constable, impressively. “Oh!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I thought,” said his niece, “but it wasn’t, because I got her off +at last and searched it through and through. I never saw anything like her +clothes in all my life. There was hardly a button or a tape on; and as for her +stockings—” +</p> + +<p> +“She don’t get much time,” said Mr. Negget, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right; I thought you’d speak up for her,” cried his wife, shrilly. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here—” began Mr. Negget, laying his pipe on the seat by his side and +rising slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep to the case in hand,” said the ex-constable, waving him back to his seat +again. “Now, Lizzie.” +</p> + +<p> +“I searched her box through and through,” said his niece, “but it wasn’t there; +then I came down again and had a rare good cry all to myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the best way for you to have it,” remarked Mr. Negget, feelingly. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Negget’s uncle instinctively motioned his niece to silence, and holding +his chin in his hand, scowled frightfully in the intensity of thought. +</p> + +<p> +“See a cloo?” inquired Mr. Negget, affably. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, George,” said his wife, angrily; +“speaking to uncle when he’s looking like that.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish said nothing; it is doubtful whether he even heard these remarks; +but he drew a huge notebook from his pocket, and after vainly trying to point +his pencil by suction, took a knife from the table and hastily sharpened it. +</p> + +<p> +“Was the brooch there last night?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“It were,” said Mr. Negget, promptly. “Lizzie made me get up just as the owd +clock were striking twelve to get her a lozenge.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems pretty certain that the brooch went since then,” mused Mr. Bodfish. +</p> + +<p> +“It would seem like it to a plain man,” said Mr. Negget, guardedly. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see the box,” said Mr. Bodfish. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Negget went up and fetched it and stood eyeing him eagerly as he raised +the lid and inspected the contents. It contained only a few lozenges and some +bone studs. Mr. Negget helped himself to a lozenge, and going back to his seat, +breathed peppermint. +</p> + +<p> +“Properly speaking, that ought not to have been touched,” said the +ex-constable, regarding him with some severity. +</p> + +<p> +“Eh!” said the startled farmer, putting his finger to his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” said the other, shaking his head. “It’s too late now.” +</p> + +<p> +“He doesn’t care a bit,” said Mrs. Negget, somewhat sadly. “He used to keep +buttons in that box with the lozenges until one night he gave me one by +mistake. Yes, you may laugh—I’m glad you can laugh.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget, feeling that his mirth was certainly ill-timed, shook for some time +in a noble effort to control himself, and despairing at length, went into the +back place to recover. Sounds of blows indicative of Emma slapping him on the +back did not add to Mrs. Negget’s serenity. +</p> + +<p> +“The point is,” said the ex-constable, “could anybody have come into your room +while you was asleep and taken it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Mrs. Negget, decisively. “I’m a very poor sleeper, and I’d have woke +at once, but if a flock of elephants was to come in the room they wouldn’t wake +George. He’d sleep through anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Except her feeling under my piller for her handkerchief,” corroborated Mr. +Negget, returning to the sitting-room. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish waved them to silence, and again gave way to deep thought. Three +times he took up his pencil, and laying it down again, sat and drummed on the +table with his fingers. Then he arose, and with bent head walked slowly round +and round the room until he stumbled over a stool. +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody came to the house this morning, I suppose?” he said at length, resuming +his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Only Mrs. Driver,” said his niece. +</p> + +<p> +“What time did she come?” inquired Mr. Bodfish. +</p> + +<p> +“Here! look here!” interposed Mr. Negget. “I’ve known Mrs. Driver thirty year +a’most.” +</p> + +<p> +“What time did she come?” repeated the ex-constable, pitilessly. +</p> + +<p> +His niece shook her head. “It might have been eleven, and again it might have +been earlier,” she replied. “I was out when she came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Out!” almost shouted the other. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Negget nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“She was sitting in here when I came back.” +</p> + +<p> +Her uncle looked up and glanced at the door behind which a small staircase led +to the room above. +</p> + +<p> +“What was to prevent Mrs. Driver going up there while you were away?” he +demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t like to think that of Mrs. Driver,” said his niece, shaking her +head; “but then in these days one never knows what might happen. Never. I’ve +given up thinking about it. However, when I came back, Mrs. Driver was here, +sitting in that very chair you are sitting in now.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish pursed up his lips and made another note. Then he took a spill from +the fireplace, and lighting a candle, went slowly and carefully up the stairs. +He found nothing on them but two caked rims of mud, and being too busy to +notice Mr. Negget’s frantic signalling, called his niece’s attention to them. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of that?” he demanded, triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Somebody’s been up there,” said his niece. “It isn’t Emma, because she hasn’t +been outside the house all day; and it can’t be George, because he promised me +faithful he’d never go up there in his dirty boots.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget coughed, and approaching the stairs, gazed with the eye of a +stranger at the relics as Mr. Bodfish hotly rebuked a suggestion of his niece’s +to sweep them up. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems to me,” said the conscience-stricken Mr. Negget, feebly, “as they’re +rather large for a woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mud cakes,” said Mr. Bodfish, with his most professional manner; “a small boot +would pick up a lot this weather.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it would,” said Mr. Negget, and with brazen effrontery not only met his +wife’s eye without quailing, but actually glanced down at her boots. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish came back to his chair and ruminated. Then he looked up and spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“It was missed this morning at ten minutes past twelve,” he said, slowly; “it +was there last night. At eleven o’clock you came in and found Mrs. Driver +sitting in that chair.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, the one you’re in,” interrupted his niece. +</p> + +<p> +“It don’t signify,” said her uncle. “Nobody else has been near the place, and +Emma’s box has been searched. +</p> + +<p> +“Thoroughly searched,” testified Mrs. Negget. +</p> + +<p> +“Now the point is, what did Mrs. Driver come for this morning?” resumed the +ex-constable. “Did she come—” +</p> + +<p> +He broke off and eyed with dignified surprise a fine piece of wireless +telegraphy between husband and wife. It appeared that Mr. Negget sent off a +humorous message with his left eye, the right being for some reason closed, to +which Mrs. Negget replied with a series of frowns and staccato shakes of the +head, which her husband found easily translatable. Under the austere stare of +Mr. Bodfish their faces at once regained their wonted calm, and the +ex-constable in a somewhat offended manner resumed his inquiries. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Driver has been here a good bit lately,” he remarked, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget’s eyes watered, and his mouth worked piteously. +</p> + +<p> +“If you can’t behave yourself, George,” began his wife, fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” demanded Mr. Bodfish. “I’m not aware that I’ve said +anything to be laughed at.” +</p> + +<p> +“No more you have, uncle,” retorted his niece; “only George is such a stupid. +He’s got an idea in his silly head that Mrs. Driver—But it’s all nonsense, of +course.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve merely got a bit of an idea that it’s a wedding-ring, not a brooch, Mrs. +Driver is after,” said the farmer to the perplexed constable. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish looked from one to the other. “But you always keep yours on, +Lizzie, don’t you?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course,” replied his niece, hurriedly; “but George has always got such +strange ideas. Don’t take no notice of him.” +</p> + +<p> +Her uncle sat back in his chair, his face still wrinkled perplexedly; then the +wrinkles vanished suddenly, chased away by a huge glow, and he rose wrathfully +and towered over the match-making Mr. Negget. “How dare you?” he gasped. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget made no reply, but in a cowardly fashion jerked his thumb toward his +wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! George! How can you say so?” said the latter. +</p> + +<p> +“I should never ha’ thought of it by myself,” said the farmer; “but I think +they’d make a very nice couple, and I’m sure Mrs. Driver thinks so.” +</p> + +<p> +The ex-constable sat down in wrathful confusion, and taking up his notebook +again, watched over the top of it the silent charges and countercharges of his +niece and her husband. +</p> + +<p> +“If I put my finger on the culprit,” he asked at length, turning to his niece, +“what do you wish done to her?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Negget regarded him with an expression which contained all the Christian +virtues rolled into one. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” she said, softly. “I only want my brooch back.” +</p> + +<p> +The ex-constable shook his head at this leniency. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, do as you please,” he said, slowly. “In the first place, I want you to +ask Mrs. Driver here to tea to-morrow—oh, I don’t mind Negget’s ridiculous +ideas—pity he hasn’t got something better to think of; if she’s guilty, I’ll +soon find it out. I’ll play with her like a cat with a mouse. I’ll make her +convict herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Look here!” said Mr. Negget, with sudden vigour. “I won’t have it. I won’t +have no woman asked here to tea to be got at like that. There’s only my friends +comes here to tea, and if any friend stole anything o’ mine, I’d be one o’ the +first to hush it up.” +</p> + +<p> +“If they were all like you, George,” said his wife, angrily, “where would the +law be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Or the police?” demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him. +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t have it!” repeated the farmer, loudly. “I’m the law here, and I’m the +police here. That little tiny bit o’ dirt was off my boots, I dare say. I don’t +care if it was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; “if he likes to +look at it that way, there’s nothing more to be said. I only wanted to get your +brooch back for you, that’s all; but if he’s against it—” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m against your asking Mrs. Driver here to my house to be got at,” said the +farmer. +</p> + +<p> +“O’ course if you can find out who took the brooch, and get it back again +anyway, that’s another matter.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish leaned over the table toward his niece. +</p> + +<p> +“If I get an opportunity, I’ll search her cottage,” he said, in a low voice. +“Strictly speaking, it ain’t quite a legal thing to do, o course, but many o’ +the finest pieces of detective work have been done by breaking the law. If +she’s a kleptomaniac, it’s very likely lying about somewhere in the house.” +</p> + +<p> +He eyed Mr. Negget closely, as though half expecting another outburst, but none +being forthcoming, sat back in his chair again and smoked in silence, while +Mrs. Negget, with a carpet-brush which almost spoke, swept the pieces of dried +mud from the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget was the last to go to bed that night, and finishing his pipe over +the dying fire, sat for some time in deep thought. He had from the first raised +objections to the presence of Mr. Bodfish at the farm, but family affection, +coupled with an idea of testamentary benefits, had so wrought with his wife +that he had allowed her to have her own way. Now he half fancied that he saw a +chance of getting rid of him. If he could only enable the widow to catch him +searching her house, it was highly probable that the ex-constable would find +the village somewhat too hot to hold him. He gave his right leg a +congratulatory slap as he thought of it, and knocking the ashes from his pipe, +went slowly up to bed. +</p> + +<p> +He was so amiable next morning that Mr. Bodfish, who was trying to explain to +Mrs. Negget the difference between theft and kleptomania, spoke before him +freely. The ex-constable defined kleptomania as a sort of amiable weakness +found chiefly among the upper circles, and cited the case of a lady of title +whose love of diamonds, combined with great hospitality, was a source of much +embarrassment to her guests. +</p> + +<p> +For the whole of that day Mr. Bodfish hung about in the neighbourhood of the +widow’s cottage, but in vain, and it would be hard to say whether he or Mr. +Negget, who had been discreetly shadowing him, felt the disappointment most. On +the day following, however, the ex-constable from a distant hedge saw a friend +of the widow’s enter the cottage, and a little later both ladies emerged and +walked up the road. +</p> + +<p> +He watched them turn the corner, and then, with a cautious glance round, which +failed, however, to discover Mr. Negget, the ex-constable strolled casually in +the direction of the cottage, and approaching it from the rear, turned the +handle of the door and slipped in. +</p> + +<p> +He searched the parlour hastily, and then, after a glance from the window, +ventured up stairs. And he was in the thick of his self-imposed task when his +graceless nephew by marriage, who had met Mrs. Driver and referred pathetically +to a raging thirst which he had hoped to have quenched with some of her +home-brewed, brought the ladies hastily back again. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go round the back way,” said the wily Negget as they approached the +cottage. “I just want to have a look at that pig of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +He reached the back door at the same time as Mr. Bodfish, and placing his legs +apart, held it firmly against the frantic efforts of the exconstable. The +struggle ceased suddenly, and the door opened easily just as Mrs. Driver and +her friend appeared in the front room, and the farmer, with a keen glance at +the door of the larder which had just closed, took a chair while his hostess +drew a glass of beer from the barrel in the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget drank gratefully and praised the brew. From beer the conversation +turned naturally to the police, and from the police to the listening Mr. +Bodfish, who was economizing space by sitting on the bread-pan, and trembling +with agitation. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s a lonely man,” said Negget, shaking his head and glancing from the corner +of his eye at the door of the larder. In his wildest dreams he had not imagined +so choice a position, and he resolved to give full play to an idea which +suddenly occurred to him. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say,” said Mrs. Driver, carelessly, conscious that her friend was +watching her. +</p> + +<p> +“And the heart of a little child,” said Negget; “you wouldn’t believe how +simple he is.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Clowes said that it did him credit, but, speaking for herself, she hadn’t +noticed it. +</p> + +<p> +“He was talking about you night before last,” said Negget, turning to his +hostess; “not that that’s anything fresh. He always is talking about you +nowadays.” +</p> + +<p> +The widow coughed confusedly and told him not to be foolish. +</p> + +<p> +“Ask my wife,” said the farmer, impressively; “they were talking about you for +hours. He’s a very shy man is my wife’s uncle, but you should see his face +change when your name’s mentioned.” +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact, Mr. Bodfish’s face was at that very moment taking on a +deeper shade of crimson. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything you do seems to interest him,” continued the farmer, disregarding +Mrs. Driver’s manifest distress; “he was asking Lizzie about your calling on +Monday; how long you stayed, and where you sat; and after she’d told him, I’m +blest if he didn’t go and sit in the same chair!” +</p> + +<p> +This romantic setting to a perfectly casual action on the part of Mr. Bodfish +affected the widow visibly, but its effect on the ex-constable nearly upset the +bread-pan. +</p> + +<p> +“But here,” continued Mr. Negget, with another glance at the larder, “he might +go on like that for years. He’s a wunnerful shy man—big, and gentle, and shy. +He wanted Lizzie to ask you to tea yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Mr. Negget,” said the blushing widow. “Do be quiet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fact,” replied the farmer; “solemn fact, I assure you. And he asked her +whether you were fond of jewellery.” +</p> + +<p> +“I met him twice in the road near here yesterday,” said Mrs. Clowes, suddenly. +“Perhaps he was waiting for you to come out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say,” replied the farmer. “I shouldn’t wonder but what he’s hanging +about somewhere near now, unable to tear himself away.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish wrung his hands, and his thoughts reverted instinctively to +instances in his memory in which charges of murder had been altered by the +direction of a sensible judge to manslaughter. He held his breath for the next +words. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Negget drank a little more ale and looked at Mrs. Driver. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder whether you’ve got a morsel of bread and cheese?” he said, slowly. +“I’ve come over that hungry—” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus03"></a> +<img src="images/003.jpg" width="452" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">Mrs. Driver fell back before the emerging form of Mr. +Bodfish.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The widow and Mr. Bodfish rose simultaneously. It required not the brain of a +trained detective to know that the cheese was in the larder. The unconscious +Mrs. Driver opened the door, and then with a wild scream fell back before the +emerging form of Mr. Bodfish into the arms of Mrs. Clowes. The glass of Mr. +Negget smashed on the floor, and the farmer himself, with every appearance of +astonishment, stared at the apparition open-mouthed. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr.—Bodfish!” he said at length, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bodfish, incapable of speech, glared at him ferociously. +</p> + +<p> +“Leave him alone,” said Mrs. Clowes, who was ministering to her friend. “Can’t +you see the man’s upset at frightening her? She’s coming round, Mr. Bodfish; +don’t be alarmed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the farmer, who found his injured relative’s gaze somewhat +trying. “I’ll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver why he was hidden in +her larder. It don’t seem a proper thing to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, you silly man,” said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at the door, +“that don’t want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we’re giving you your +chance. Mind you make the most of it, and don’t be too shy.” +</p> + +<p> +She walked excitedly up the road with the farmer, and bidding him good-bye at +the corner, went off hastily to spread the news. Mr. Negget walked home +soberly, and hardly staying long enough to listen to his wife’s account of the +finding of the brooch between the chest of drawers and the wall, went off to +spend the evening with a friend, and ended by making a night of it. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>IN THE LIBRARY</h2> + +<p> +The fire had burnt low in the library, for the night was wet and warm. It was +now little more than a grey shell, and looked desolate. Trayton Burleigh, still +hot, rose from his armchair, and turning out one of the gas-jets, took a cigar +from a box on a side-table and resumed his seat again. +</p> + +<p> +The apartment, which was on the third floor at the back of the house, was a +combination of library, study, and smoke-room, and was the daily despair of the +old housekeeper who, with the assistance of one servant, managed the house. It +was a bachelor establishment, and had been left to Trayton Burleigh and James +Fletcher by a distant connection of both men some ten years before. +</p> + +<p> +Trayton Burleigh sat back in his chair watching the smoke of his cigar through +half-closed eyes. Occasionally he opened them a little wider and glanced round +the comfortable, well-furnished room, or stared with a cold gleam of hatred at +Fletcher as he sat sucking stolidly at his brier pipe. It was a comfortable +room and a valuable house, half of which belonged to Trayton Burleigh; and yet +he was to leave it in the morning and become a rogue and a wanderer over the +face of the earth. James Fletcher had said so. James Fletcher, with the pipe +still between his teeth and speaking from one corner of his mouth only, had +pronounced his sentence. +</p> + +<p> +“It hasn’t occurred to you, I suppose,” said Burleigh, speaking suddenly, “that +I might refuse your terms.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Fletcher, simply. +</p> + +<p> +Burleigh took a great mouthful of smoke and let it roll slowly out. +</p> + +<p> +“I am to go out and leave you in possession?” he continued. “You will stay here +sole proprietor of the house; you will stay at the office sole owner and +representative of the firm? You are a good hand at a deal, James Fletcher.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am an honest man,” said Fletcher, “and to raise sufficient money to make +your defalcations good will not by any means leave me the gainer, as you very +well know.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no necessity to borrow,” began Burleigh, eagerly. “We can pay the +interest easily, and in course of time make the principal good without a soul +being the wiser.” +</p> + +<p> +“That you suggested before,” said Fletcher, “and my answer is the same. I will +be no man’s confederate in dishonesty; I will raise every penny at all costs, +and save the name of the firm—and yours with it—but I will never have you +darken the office again, or sit in this house after to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You</i> won’t,” cried Burleigh, starting up in a frenzy of rage. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>I</i> won’t,” said Fletcher. “You can choose the alternative: disgrace and +penal servitude. Don’t stand over me; you won’t frighten me, I can assure you. +Sit down.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have arranged so many things in your kindness,” said Burleigh, slowly, +resuming his seat again, “have you arranged how I am to live?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have two strong hands, and health,” replied Fletcher. “I will give you the +two hundred pounds I mentioned, and after that you must look out for yourself. +You can take it now.” +</p> + +<p> +He took a leather case from his breast pocket, and drew out a roll of notes. +Burleigh, watching him calmly, stretched out his hand and took them from the +table. Then he gave way to a sudden access of rage, and crumpling them in his +hand, threw them into a corner of the room. Fletcher smoked on. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Marl is out?” said Burleigh, suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +Fletcher nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“She will be away the night,” he said, slowly; “and Jane too; they have gone +together somewhere, but they will be back at half-past eight in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are going to let me have one more breakfast in the old place, then,” said +Burleigh. “Half-past eight, half-past—-” +</p> + +<p> +He rose from his chair again. This time Fletcher took his pipe from his mouth +and watched him closely. Burleigh stooped, and picking up the notes, placed +them in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“If I am to be turned adrift, it shall not be to leave you here,” he said, in a +thick voice. +</p> + +<p> +He crossed over and shut the door; as he turned back Fletcher rose from his +chair and stood confronting him. Burleigh put his hand to the wall, and drawing +a small Japanese sword from its sheath of carved ivory, stepped slowly toward +him. +</p> + +<p> +“I give you one chance, Fletcher,” he said, grimly. “You are a man of your +word. Hush this up and let things be as they were before, and you are safe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Put that down,” said Fletcher, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“By —, I mean what I say!” cried the other. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean what I said!” answered Fletcher. +</p> + +<p> +He looked round at the last moment for a weapon, then he turned suddenly at a +sharp sudden pain, and saw Burleigh’s clenched fist nearly touching his +breast-bone. The hand came away from his breast again, and something with it. +It went a long way off. Trayton Burleigh suddenly went to a great distance and +the room darkened. It got quite dark, and Fletcher, with an attempt to raise +his hands, let them fall to his side instead, and fell in a heap to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +He was so still that Burleigh could hardly realize that it was all over, and +stood stupidly waiting for him to rise again. Then he took out his handkerchief +as though to wipe the sword, and thinking better of it, put it back into his +pocket again, and threw the weapon on to the floor. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus04"></a> +<img src="images/004.jpg" width="424" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the +door.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The body of Fletcher lay where it had fallen, the white face turned up to the +gas. In life he had been a commonplace-looking man, not to say vulgar; now +Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the door, until the body +was hidden by the table, and relieved from the sight, he could think more +clearly. He looked down carefully and examined his clothes and his boots. Then +he crossed the room again, and with his face averted, turned out the gas. +Something seemed to stir in the darkness, and with a faint cry he blundered +toward the door before he had realized that it was the clock. It struck twelve. +</p> + +<p> +He stood at the head of the stairs trying to recover himself; trying to think. +The gas on the landing below, the stairs and the furniture, all looked so +prosaic and familiar that he could not realize what had occurred. He walked +slowly down and turned the light out. The darkness of the upper part of the +house was now almost appalling, and in a sudden panic he ran down stairs into +the lighted hall, and snatching a hat from the stand, went to the door and +walked down to the gate. +</p> + +<p> +Except for one window the neighbouring houses were in darkness, and the lamps +shone upon a silent street. There was a little rain in the air, and the muddy +road was full of pebbles. He stood at the gate trying to screw up his courage +to enter the house again. Then he noticed a figure coming slowly up the road +and keeping close to the palings. +</p> + +<p> +The full realization of what he had done broke in upon him when he found +himself turning to fly from the approach of the constable. The wet cape +glistening in the lamplight, the slow, heavy step, made him tremble. Suppose +the thing upstairs was not quite dead and should cry out? Suppose the constable +should think it strange for him to be standing there and follow him in? He +assumed a careless attitude, which did not feel careless, and as the man passed +bade him good-night, and made a remark as to the weather. +</p> + +<p> +Ere the sound of the other’s footsteps had gone quite out of hearing, he turned +and entered the house again before the sense of companionship should have quite +departed. The first flight of stairs was lighted by the gas in the hall, and he +went up slowly. Then he struck a match and went up steadily, past the library +door, and with firm fingers turned on the gas in his bedroom and lit it. He +opened the window a little way, and sitting down on his bed, tried to think. +</p> + +<p> +He had got eight hours. Eight hours and two hundred pounds in small notes. He +opened his safe and took out all the loose cash it contained, and walking about +the room, gathered up and placed in his pockets such articles of jewellery as +he possessed. +</p> + +<p> +The first horror had now to some extent passed, and was succeeded by the fear +of death. +</p> + +<p> +With this fear on him he sat down again and tried to think out the first moves +in that game of skill of which his life was the stake. He had often read of +people of hasty temper, evading the police for a time, and eventually falling +into their hands for lack of the most elementary common sense. He had heard it +said that they always made some stupid blunder, left behind them some damning +clue. He took his revolver from a drawer and saw that it was loaded. If the +worst came to the worst, he would die quickly. +</p> + +<p> +Eight hours’ start; two hundred odd pounds. He would take lodgings at first in +some populous district, and let the hair on his face grow. When the hue-and-cry +had ceased, he would go abroad and start life again. He would go out of a night +and post letters to himself, or better still, postcards, which his landlady +would read. Postcards from cheery friends, from a sister, from a brother. +During the day he would stay in and write, as became a man who described +himself as a journalist. +</p> + +<p> +Or suppose he went to the sea? Who would look for him in flannels, bathing and +boating with ordinary happy mortals? He sat and pondered. One might mean life, +and the other death. Which? +</p> + +<p> +His face burned as he thought of the responsibility of the choice. So many +people went to the sea at that time of year that he would surely pass +unnoticed. But at the sea one might meet acquaintances. He got up and nervously +paced the room again. It was not so simple, now that it meant so much, as he +had thought. +</p> + +<p> +The sharp little clock on the mantel-piece rang out “one,” followed immediately +by the deeper note of that in the library. He thought of the clock, it seemed +the only live thing in that room, and shuddered. He wondered whether the thing +lying by the far side of the table heard it. He wondered—- +</p> + +<p> +He started and held his breath with fear. Somewhere down stairs a board creaked +loudly, then another. He went to the door, and opening it a little way, but +without looking out, listened. The house was so still that he could hear the +ticking of the old clock in the kitchen below. He opened the door a little +wider and peeped out. As he did so there was a sudden sharp outcry on the +stairs, and he drew back into the room and stood trembling before he had quite +realized that the noise had been made by the cat. The cry was unmistakable; but +what had disturbed it? +</p> + +<p> +There was silence again, and he drew near the door once more. He became certain +that something was moving stealthily on the stairs. He heard the boards creak +again, and once the rails of the balustrade rattled. The silence and suspense +were frightful. Suppose that the something which had been Fletcher waited for +him in the darkness outside? +</p> + +<p> +He fought his fears down, and opening the door, determined to see what was +beyond. The light from his room streamed out on to the landing, and he peered +about fearfully. Was it fancy, or did the door of Fletcher’s room opposite +close as he looked? Was it fancy, or did the handle of the door really turn? +</p> + +<p> +In perfect silence, and watching the door as he moved, to see that nothing came +out and followed him, he proceeded slowly down the dark stairs. Then his jaw +fell, and he turned sick and faint again. The library door, which he distinctly +remembered closing, and which, moreover, he had seen was closed when he went up +stairs to his room, now stood open some four or five inches. He fancied that +there was a rustling inside, but his brain refused to be certain. Then plainly +and unmistakably he heard a chair pushed against the wall. +</p> + +<p> +He crept to the door, hoping to pass it before the thing inside became aware of +his presence. Something crept stealthily about the room. With a sudden impulse +he caught the handle of the door, and, closing it violently, turned the key in +the lock, and ran madly down the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +A fearful cry sounded from the room, and a heavy hand beat upon the panels of +the door. The house rang with the blows, but above them sounded the loud hoarse +cries of human fear. Burleigh, half-way down to the hall, stopped with his hand +on the balustrade and listened. The beating ceased, and a man’s voice cried out +loudly for God’s sake to let him out. +</p> + +<p> +At once Burleigh saw what had happened and what it might mean for him. He had +left the hall door open after his visit to the front, and some wandering bird +of the night had entered the house. No need for him to go now. No need to hide +either from the hangman’s rope or the felon’s cell. The fool above had saved +him. He turned and ran up stairs again just as the prisoner in his furious +efforts to escape wrenched the handle from the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s there?” he cried, loudly. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me out!” cried a frantic voice. “For God’s sake, open the door! There’s +something here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stay where you are!” shouted Burleigh, sternly. “Stay where you are! If you +come out, I’ll shoot you like a dog!” +</p> + +<p> +The only response was a smashing blow on the lock of the door. Burleigh raised +his pistol, and aiming at the height of a man’s chest, fired through the panel. +</p> + +<p> +The report and the crashing of the wood made one noise, succeeded by an +unearthly stillness, then the noise of a window hastily opened. Burleigh fled +hastily down the stairs, and flinging wide the hall door, shouted loudly for +assistance. +</p> + +<p> +It happened that a sergeant and the constable on the beat had just met in the +road. They came toward the house at a run. Burleigh, with incoherent +explanations, ran up stairs before them, and halted outside the library door. +The prisoner was still inside, still trying to demolish the lock of the sturdy +oaken door. Burleigh tried to turn the key, but the lock was too damaged to +admit of its moving. The sergeant drew back, and, shoulder foremost, hurled +himself at the door and burst it open. +</p> + +<p> +He stumbled into the room, followed by the constable, and two shafts of light +from the lanterns at their belts danced round the room. A man lurking behind +the door made a dash for it, and the next instant the three men were locked +together. +</p> + +<p> +Burleigh, standing in the doorway, looked on coldly, reserving himself for the +scene which was to follow. Except for the stumbling of the men and the sharp +catch of the prisoner’s breath, there was no noise. A helmet fell off and +bounced and rolled along the floor. The men fell; there was a sobbing snarl and +a sharp click. A tall figure rose from the floor; the other, on his knees, +still held the man down. The standing figure felt in his pocket, and, striking +a match, lit the gas. +</p> + +<p> +The light fell on the flushed face and fair beard of the sergeant. He was +bare-headed, and his hair dishevelled. Burleigh entered the room and gazed +eagerly at the half-insensible man on the floor-a short, thick-set fellow with +a white, dirty face and a black moustache. His lip was cut and bled down his +neck. Burleigh glanced furtively at the table. The cloth had come off in the +struggle, and was now in the place where he had left Fletcher. +</p> + +<p> +“Hot work, sir,” said the sergeant, with a smile. “It’s fortunate we were +handy.” +</p> + +<p> +The prisoner raised a heavy head and looked up with unmistakable terror in his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, sir,” he said, trembling, as the constable increased the pressure +of his knee. “I ’ain’t been in the house ten minutes altogether. By —, I’ve +not.” +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant regarded him curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“It don’t signify,” he said, slowly; “ten minutes or ten seconds won’t make any +difference.” +</p> + +<p> +The man shook and began to whimper. +</p> + +<p> +“It was ’ere when I come,” he said, eagerly; “take that down, sir. I’ve only +just come, and it was ’ere when I come. I tried to get away then, but I was +locked in.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was?” demanded the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>That</i>,” he said, desperately. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant, following the direction of the terror-stricken black eyes, +stooped by the table. Then, with a sharp exclamation, he dragged away the +cloth. Burleigh, with a sharp cry of horror, reeled back against the wall. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, sir,” said the sergeant, catching him; “all right. Turn your head +away.” +</p> + +<p> +He pushed him into a chair, and crossing the room, poured out a glass of +whiskey and brought it to him. The glass rattled against his teeth, but he +drank it greedily, and then groaned faintly. The sergeant waited patiently. +There was no hurry. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it, sir?” he asked at length. +</p> + +<p> +“My friend—Fletcher,” said Burleigh, with an effort. “We lived together.” He +turned to the prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +“You damned villain!” +</p> + +<p> +“He was dead when I come in the room, gentlemen,” said the prisoner, +strenuously. “He was on the floor dead, and when I see ’im, I tried to get out. +S’ ’elp me he was. You heard me call out, sir. I shouldn’t ha’ called out if +I’d killed him.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said the sergeant, gruffly; “you’d better hold your tongue, you +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“You keep quiet,” urged the constable. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant knelt down and raised the dead man’s head. +</p> + +<p> +“I ’ad nothing to do with it,” repeated the man on the floor. “I ’ad nothing to +do with it. I never thought of such a thing. I’ve only been in the place ten +minutes; put that down, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant groped with his left hand, and picking up the Japanese sword, held +it at him. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never seen it before,” said the prisoner, struggling. +</p> + +<p> +“It used to hang on the wall,” said Burleigh. “He must have snatched it down. +It was on the wall when I left Fletcher a little while ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long?” inquired the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps an hour, perhaps half an hour,” was the reply. “I went to my bedroom.” +</p> + +<p> +The man on the floor twisted his head and regarded him narrowly. +</p> + +<p> +“You done it!” he cried, fiercely. “You done it, and you want me to swing for +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’ll do,” said the indignant constable. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant let his burden gently to the floor again. +</p> + +<p> +“You hold your tongue, you devil!” he said, menacingly. +</p> + +<p> +He crossed to the table and poured a little spirit into a glass and took it in +his hand. Then he put it down again and crossed to Burleigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Feeling better, sir?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +The other nodded faintly. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t want this thing any more,” said the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +He pointed to the pistol which the other still held, and taking it from him +gently, put it into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve hurt your wrist, sir,” he said, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +Burleigh raised one hand sharply, and then the other. +</p> + +<p> +“This one, I think,” said the sergeant. “I saw it just now.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the other’s wrists in his hand, and suddenly holding them in the grip +of a vice, whipped out something from his pocket—something hard and cold, which +snapped suddenly on Burleigh’s wrists, and held them fast. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” said the sergeant; “keep quiet.” +</p> + +<p> +The constable turned round in amaze; Burleigh sprang toward him furiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Take these things off!” he choked. “Have you gone mad? Take them off!” +</p> + +<p> +“All in good time,” said the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +“Take them off!” cried Burleigh again. +</p> + +<p> +For answer the sergeant took him in a powerful grip, and staring steadily at +his white face and gleaming eyes, forced him to the other end of the room and +pushed him into a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Collins,” he said, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir?” said the astonished subordinate. +</p> + +<p> +“Run to the doctor at the corner hard as you can run!” said the other. “<i>This +man is not dead!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +As the man left the room the sergeant took up the glass of spirits he had +poured out, and kneeling down by Fletcher again, raised his head and tried to +pour a little down his throat. Burleigh, sitting in his corner, watched like +one in a trance. He saw the constable return with the breathless surgeon, saw +the three men bending over Fletcher, and then saw the eyes of the dying man +open and the lips of the dying man move. He was conscious that the sergeant +made some notes in a pocket-book, and that all three men eyed him closely. The +sergeant stepped toward him and placed his hand on his shoulder, and obedient +to the touch, he arose and went with him out into the night. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CAPTAIN ROGERS</h2> + +<p> +A man came slowly over the old stone bridge, and averting his gaze from the +dark river with its silent craft, looked with some satisfaction toward the +feeble lights of the small town on the other side. He walked with the painful, +forced step of one who has already trudged far. His worsted hose, where they +were not darned, were in holes, and his coat and knee-breeches were rusty with +much wear, but he straightened himself as he reached the end of the bridge and +stepped out bravely to the taverns which stood in a row facing the quay. +</p> + +<p> +He passed the “Queen Anne”—a mere beershop—without pausing, and after a glance +apiece at the “Royal George” and the “Trusty Anchor,” kept on his way to where +the “Golden Key” hung out a gilded emblem. It was the best house in Riverstone, +and patronized by the gentry, but he adjusted his faded coat, and with a +swaggering air entered and walked boldly into the coffee-room. +</p> + +<p> +The room was empty, but a bright fire afforded a pleasant change to the chill +October air outside. He drew up a chair, and placing his feet on the fender, +exposed his tattered soles to the blaze, as a waiter who had just seen him +enter the room came and stood aggressively inside the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Brandy and water,” said the stranger; “hot.” +</p> + +<p> +“The coffee-room is for gentlemen staying in the house,” said the waiter. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger took his feet from the fender, and rising slowly, walked toward +him. He was a short man and thin, but there was something so menacing in his +attitude, and something so fearsome in his stony brown eyes, that the other, +despite his disgust for ill-dressed people, moved back uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“Brandy and water, hot,” repeated the stranger; “and plenty of it. D’ye hear?” +</p> + +<p> +The man turned slowly to depart. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” said the other, imperiously. “What’s the name of the landlord here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mullet,” said the fellow, sulkily. +</p> + +<p> +“Send him to me,” said the other, resuming his seat; “and hark you, my friend, +more civility, or ’twill be the worse for you.” +</p> + +<p> +He stirred the log on the fire with his foot until a shower of sparks whirled +up the chimney. The door opened, and the landlord, with the waiter behind him, +entered the room, but he still gazed placidly at the glowing embers. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want?” demanded the landlord, in a deep voice. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger turned a little weazened yellow face and grinned at him +familiarly. +</p> + +<p> +“Send that fat rascal of yours away,” he said, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +The landlord started at his voice and eyed him closely; then he signed to the +man to withdraw, and closing the door behind him, stood silently watching his +visitor. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t expect to see me, Rogers,” said the latter. +</p> + +<p> +“My name’s Mullet,” said the other, sternly. “What do you want?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mullet?” said the other, in surprise. “I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake, +then. I thought you were my old shipmate, Captain Rogers. It’s a foolish +mistake of mine, as I’ve no doubt Rogers was hanged years ago. You never had a +brother named Rogers, did you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I say again, what do you want?” demanded the other, advancing upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Since you’re so good,” said the other. “I want new clothes, food, and lodging +of the best, and my pockets filled with money.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better go and look for all those things, then,” said Mullet. “You +won’t find them here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay!” said the other, rising. “Well, well—There was a hundred guineas on the +head of my old shipmate Rogers some fifteen years ago. I’ll see whether it has +been earned yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I gave you a hundred guineas,” said the innkeeper, repressing his passion +by a mighty effort, “you would not be satisfied.” +</p> + +<p> +“Reads like a book,” said the stranger, in tones of pretended delight. “What a +man it is!” +</p> + +<p> +He fell back as he spoke, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew forth a +long pistol as the innkeeper, a man of huge frame, edged toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep your distance,” he said, in a sharp, quick voice. +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper, in no wise disturbed at the pistol, turned away calmly, and +ringing the bell, ordered some spirits. Then taking a chair, he motioned to the +other to do the same, and they sat in silence until the staring waiter had left +the room again. The stranger raised his glass. +</p> + +<p> +“My old friend Captain Rogers,” he said, solemnly, “and may he never get his +deserts!” +</p> + +<p> +“From what jail have you come?” inquired Mullet, sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“’Pon my soul,” said the other, “I have been in so many—looking for Captain +Rogers—that I almost forget the last, but I have just tramped from London, two +hundred and eighty odd miles, for the pleasure of seeing your damned ugly +figure-head again; and now I’ve found it, I’m going to stay. Give me some +money.” +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper, without a word, drew a little gold and silver from his pocket, +and placing it on the table, pushed it toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“Enough to go on with,” said the other, pocketing it; “in future it is halves. +D’ye hear me? <i>Halves!</i> And I’ll stay here and see I get it.” +</p> + +<p> +He sat back in his chair, and meeting the other’s hatred with a gaze as steady +as his own, replaced his pistol. +</p> + +<p> +“A nice snug harbor after our many voyages,” he continued. “Shipmates we were, +shipmates we’ll be; while Nick Gunn is alive you shall never want for company. +Lord! Do you remember the Dutch brig, and the fat frightened mate?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have forgotten it,” said the other, still eyeing him steadfastly. “I have +forgotten many things. For fifteen years I have lived a decent, honest life. +Pray God for your own sinful soul, that the devil in me does not wake again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fifteen years is a long nap,” said Gunn, carelessly; “what a godsend it’ll be +for you to have me by you to remind you of old times! Why, you’re looking smug, +man; the honest innkeeper to the life! Gad! who’s the girl?” +</p> + +<p> +He rose and made a clumsy bow as a girl of eighteen, after a moment’s +hesitation at the door, crossed over to the innkeeper. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m busy, my dear,” said the latter, somewhat sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“Our business,” said Gunn, with another bow, “is finished. Is this your +daughter, Rog— Mullet?” +</p> + +<p> +“My stepdaughter,” was the reply. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus05"></a> +<img src="images/005.jpg" width="437" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast, and bowed again. +</p> + +<p> +“One of your father’s oldest friends,” he said smoothly; “and fallen on evil +days; I’m sure your gentle heart will be pleased to hear that your good father +has requested me—for a time—to make his house my home.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any friend of my father’s is welcome to me, sir,” said the girl, coldly. She +looked from the innkeeper to his odd-looking guest, and conscious of something +strained in the air, gave him a little bow and quitted the room. +</p> + +<p> +“You insist upon staying, then?” said Mullet, after a pause. +</p> + +<p> +“More than ever,” replied Gunn, with a leer toward the door. “Why, you don’t +think I’m <i>afraid</i>, Captain? You should know me better than that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Life is sweet,” said the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay,” assented Gunn, “so sweet that you will share things with me to keep it.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the other, with great calm. “I am man enough to have a better +reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“No psalm singing,” said Gunn, coarsely. “And look cheerful, you old buccaneer. +Look as a man should look who has just met an old friend never to lose him +again.” +</p> + +<p> +He eyed his man expectantly and put his hand to his pocket again, but the +innkeeper’s face was troubled, and he gazed stolidly at the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“See what fifteen years’ honest, decent life does for us,” grinned the +intruder. +</p> + +<p> +The other made no reply, but rising slowly, walked to the door without a word. +</p> + +<p> +“Landlord,” cried Gunn, bringing his maimed hand sharply down on the table. +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper turned and regarded him. +</p> + +<p> +“Send me in some supper,” said Gunn; “the best you have, and plenty of it, and +have a room prepared. The best.” +</p> + +<p> +The door closed silently, and was opened a little later by the dubious George +coming in to set a bountiful repast. Gunn, after cursing him for his slowness +and awkwardness, drew his chair to the table and made the meal of one seldom +able to satisfy his hunger. He finished at last, and after sitting for some +time smoking, with his legs sprawled on the fender, rang for a candle and +demanded to be shown to his room. +</p> + +<p> +His proceedings when he entered it were but a poor compliment to his host. Not +until he had poked and pried into every corner did he close the door. Then, not +content with locking it, he tilted a chair beneath the handle, and placing his +pistol beneath his pillow, fell fast asleep. +</p> + +<p> +Despite his fatigue he was early astir next morning. Breakfast was laid for him +in the coffee-room, and his brow darkened. He walked into the hall, and after +trying various doors entered a small sitting-room, where his host and daughter +sat at breakfast, and with an easy assurance drew a chair to the table. The +innkeeper helped him without a word, but the girl’s hand shook under his gaze +as she passed him some coffee. +</p> + +<p> +“As soft a bed as ever I slept in,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope that you slept well,” said the girl, civilly. +</p> + +<p> +“Like a child,” said Gunn, gravely; “an easy conscience. Eh, Mullet?” +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper nodded and went on eating. The other, after another remark or +two, followed his example, glancing occasionally with warm approval at the +beauty of the girl who sat at the head of the table. +</p> + +<p> +“A sweet girl,” he remarked, as she withdrew at the end of the meal; “and no +mother, I presume?” +</p> + +<p> +“No mother,” repeated the other. +</p> + +<p> +Gunn sighed and shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“A sad case, truly,” he murmured. “No mother and such a guardian. Poor soul, if +she but knew! Well, we must find her a husband.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked down as he spoke, and catching sight of his rusty clothes and broken +shoes, clapped his hand to his pocket; and with a glance at his host, sallied +out to renew his wardrobe. The innkeeper, with an inscrutable face, watched him +down the quay, then with bent head he returned to the house and fell to work on +his accounts. +</p> + +<p> +In this work Gunn, returning an hour later, clad from head to foot in new +apparel, offered to assist him. Mullett hesitated, but made no demur; neither +did he join in the ecstasies which his new partner displayed at the sight of +the profits. Gunn put some more gold into his new pockets, and throwing himself +back in a chair, called loudly to George to bring him some drink. +</p> + +<p> +In less than a month the intruder was the virtual master of the “Golden Key.” +Resistance on the part of the legitimate owner became more and more feeble, the +slightest objection on his part drawing from the truculent Gunn dark allusions +to his past and threats against his future, which for the sake of his daughter +he could not ignore. His health began to fail, and Joan watched with perplexed +terror the growth of a situation which was in a fair way of becoming +unbearable. +</p> + +<p> +The arrogance of Gunn knew no bounds. The maids learned to tremble at his +polite grin, or his worse freedom, and the men shrank appalled from his profane +wrath. George, after ten years’ service, was brutally dismissed, and refusing +to accept dismissal from his hands, appealed to his master. The innkeeper +confirmed it, and with lack-lustre eyes fenced feebly when his daughter, +regardless of Gunn’s presence, indignantly appealed to him. +</p> + +<p> +“The man was rude to my friend, my dear,” he said dispiritedly +</p> + +<p> +“If he was rude, it was because Mr. Gunn deserved it,” said Joan, hotly. +</p> + +<p> +Gunn laughed uproariously. +</p> + +<p> +“Gad, my dear, I like you!” he cried, slapping his leg. “You’re a girl of +spirit. Now I will make you a fair offer. If you ask for George to stay, stay +he shall, as a favour to your sweet self.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl trembled. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is master here?” she demanded, turning a full eye on her father. +</p> + +<p> +Mullet laughed uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“This is business,” he said, trying to speak lightly, “and women can’t +understand it. Gunn is—is valuable to me, and George must go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless you plead for him, sweet one?” said Gunn. +</p> + +<p> +The girl looked at her father again, but he turned his head away and tapped on +the floor with his foot. Then in perplexity, akin to tears, she walked from the +room, carefully drawing her dress aside as Gunn held the door for her. +</p> + +<p> +“A fine girl,” said Gunn, his thin lips working; “a fine spirit. ’Twill be +pleasant to break it; but she does not know who is master here.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is young yet,” said the other, hurriedly. +</p> + +<p> +“I will soon age her if she looks like that at me again,” said Gunn. “By —, +I’ll turn out the whole crew into the street, and her with them, an’ I wish it. +I’ll lie in my bed warm o’ nights and think of her huddled on a doorstep.” +</p> + +<p> +His voice rose and his fists clenched, but he kept his distance and watched the +other warily. The innkeeper’s face was contorted and his brow grew wet. For one +moment something peeped out of his eyes; the next he sat down in his chair +again and nervously fingered his chin. +</p> + +<p> +“I have but to speak,” said Gunn, regarding him with much satisfaction, “and +you will hang, and your money go to the Crown. What will become of her then, +think you?” +</p> + +<p> +The other laughed nervously. +</p> + +<p> +“’Twould be stopping the golden eggs,” he ventured. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t think too much of that,” said Gunn, in a hard voice. “I was never one to +be baulked, as you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come. Let us be friends,” said Mullet; “the girl is young, and has had +her way.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked almost pleadingly at the other, and his voice trembled. Gunn drew +himself up, and regarding him with a satisfied sneer, quitted the room without +a word. +</p> + +<p> +Affairs at the “Golden Key” grew steadily worse and worse. Gunn dominated the +place, and his vile personality hung over it like a shadow. Appeals to the +innkeeper were in vain; his health was breaking fast, and he moodily declined +to interfere. Gunn appointed servants of his own choosing-brazen maids and +foul-mouthed men. The old patrons ceased to frequent the “Golden Key,” and its +bedrooms stood empty. The maids scarcely deigned to take an order from Joan, +and the men spoke to her familiarly. In the midst of all this the innkeeper, +who had complained once or twice of vertigo, was seized with a fit. +</p> + +<p> +Joan, flying to him for protection against the brutal advances of Gunn, found +him lying in a heap behind the door of his small office, and in her fear called +loudly for assistance. A little knot of servants collected, and stood regarding +him stupidly. One made a brutal jest. Gunn, pressing through the throng, turned +the senseless body over with his foot, and cursing vilely, ordered them to +carry it upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +Until the surgeon came, Joan, kneeling by the bed, held on to the senseless +hand as her only protection against the evil faces of Gunn and his protégés. +Gunn himself was taken aback, the innkeeper’s death at that time by no means +suiting his aims. +</p> + +<p> +The surgeon was a man of few words and fewer attainments, but under his +ministrations the innkeeper, after a long interval, rallied. The half-closed +eyes opened, and he looked in a dazed fashion at his surroundings. Gunn drove +the servants away and questioned the man of medicine. The answers were vague +and interspersed with Latin. Freedom from noise and troubles of all kinds was +insisted upon and Joan was installed as nurse, with a promise of speedy +assistance. +</p> + +<p> +The assistance arrived late in the day in the shape of an elderly woman, whose +Spartan treatment of her patients had helped many along the silent road. She +commenced her reign by punching the sick man’s pillows, and having shaken him +into consciousness by this means, gave him a dose of physic, after first +tasting it herself from the bottle. +</p> + +<p> +After the first rally the innkeeper began to fail slowly. It was seldom that he +understood what was said to him, and pitiful to the beholder to see in his +intervals of consciousness his timid anxiety to earn the good-will of the +all-powerful Gunn. His strength declined until assistance was needed to turn +him in the bed, and his great sinewy hands were forever trembling and fidgeting +on the coverlet. +</p> + +<p> +Joan, pale with grief and fear, tended him assiduously. Her stepfather’s +strength had been a proverb in the town, and many a hasty citizen had felt the +strength of his arm. The increasing lawlessness of the house filled her with +dismay, and the coarse attentions of Gunn became more persistent than ever. She +took her meals in the sick-room, and divided her time between that and her own. +</p> + +<p> +Gunn himself was in a dilemma. With Mullet dead, his power was at an end and +his visions of wealth dissipated. He resolved to feather his nest immediately, +and interviewed the surgeon. The surgeon was ominously reticent, the nurse +cheerfully ghoulish. +</p> + +<p> +“Four days I give him,” she said, calmly; “four blessed days, not but what he +might slip away at any moment.” +</p> + +<p> +Gunn let one day of the four pass, and then, choosing a time when Joan was from +the room, entered it for a little quiet conversation. The innkeeper’s eyes were +open, and, what was more to the purpose, intelligent. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re cheating the hangman, after all,” snarled Gunn. “I’m off to swear an +information.” +</p> + +<p> +The other, by a great effort, turned his heavy head and fixed his wistful eyes +on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy!” he whispered. “For her sake—give me—a little time!” +</p> + +<p> +“To slip your cable, I suppose,” quoth Gunn. “Where’s your money? Where’s your +hoard, you miser?” +</p> + +<p> +Mullet closed his eyes. He opened them again slowly and strove to think, while +Gunn watched him narrowly. When he spoke, his utterance was thick and labored. +</p> + +<p> +“Come to-night,” he muttered, slowly. “Give me—time—I will make your —your +fortune. But the nurse-watches.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll see to her,” said Gunn, with a grin. “But tell me now, lest you die +first.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will—let Joan—have a share?” panted the innkeeper. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” said Gunn, hastily. +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper strove to raise himself in the bed, and then fell back again +exhausted as Joan’s step was heard on the stairs. Gunn gave a savage glance of +warning at him, and barring the progress of the girl at the door, attempted to +salute her. Joan came in pale and trembling, and falling on her knees by the +bedside, took her father’s hand in hers and wept over it. The innkeeper gave a +faint groan and a shiver ran through his body. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearly an hour after midnight that Nick Gunn, kicking off his shoes, +went stealthily out onto the landing. A little light came from the partly open +door of the sick-room, but all else was in blackness. He moved along and peered +in. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse was siting in a high-backed oak chair by the fire. She had slipped +down in the seat, and her untidy head hung on her bosom. A glass stood on the +small oak table by her side, and a solitary candle on the high mantel-piece +diffused a sickly light. Gunn entered the room, and finding that the sick man +was dozing, shook him roughly. +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper opened his eyes and gazed at him blankly. +</p> + +<p> +“Wake, you fool,” said Gunn, shaking him again. +</p> + +<p> +The other roused and muttered something incoherently. Then he stirred slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“The nurse,” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s safe enow,” said Gunn. “I’ve seen to that.” +</p> + +<p> +He crossed the room lightly, and standing before the unconscious woman, +inspected her closely and raised her in the chair. Her head fell limply over +the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Dead?” inquired Mullet, in a fearful whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“Drugged,” said Gunn, shortly. “Now speak up, and be lively.” +</p> + +<p> +The innkeeper’s eyes again travelled in the direction of the nurse. +</p> + +<p> +“The men,” he whispered; “the servants.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dead drunk and asleep,” said Gunn, biting the words. “The last day would +hardly rouse them. Now will you speak, damn you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I must—take care—of Joan,” said the father. +</p> + +<p> +Gunn shook his clenched hand at him. +</p> + +<p> +“My money—is—is—” said the other. “Promise me on—your oath—Joan.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” growled Gunn; “how many more times? I’ll marry her, and she shall +have what I choose to give her. Speak up, you fool! It’s not for you to make +terms. Where is it?” +</p> + +<p> +He bent over, but Mullet, exhausted with his efforts, had closed his eyes +again, and half turned his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is it, damn you?” said Gunn, from between his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +Mullet opened his eyes again, glanced fearfully round the room, and whispered. +Gunn, with a stifled oath, bent his ear almost to his mouth, and the next +moment his neck was in the grip of the strongest man in Riverstone, and an arm +like a bar of iron over his back pinned him down across the bed. +</p> + +<p> +“You <i>dog!</i>” hissed a fierce voice in his ear. “I’ve got you—Captain +Rogers at your service, and now you may tell his name to all you can. Shout it, +you spawn of hell. Shout it!” +</p> + +<p> +He rose in bed, and with a sudden movement flung the other over on his back. +Gunn’s eyes were starting from his head, and he writhed convulsively. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you were a sharper man, Gunn,” said Rogers, still in the same hot +whisper, as he relaxed his grip a little; “you are too simple, you hound! When +you first threatened me I resolved to kill you. Then you threatened my +daughter. I wish that you had nine lives, that I might take them all. Keep +still!” +</p> + +<p> +He gave a half-glance over his shoulder at the silent figure of the nurse, and +put his weight on the twisting figure on the bed. +</p> + +<p> +“You drugged the hag, good Gunn,” he continued. “To-morrow morning, Gunn, they +will find you in your room dead, and if one of the scum you brought into my +house be charged with the murder, so much the better. When I am well they will +go. I am already feeling a little bit stronger, Gunn, as you see, and in a +month I hope to be about again.” +</p> + +<p> +He averted his face, and for a time gazed sternly and watchfully at the door. +Then he rose slowly to his feet, and taking the dead man in his arms, bore him +slowly and carefully to his room, and laid him a huddled heap on the floor. +Swiftly and noiselessly he put the dead man’s shoes on and turned his pockets +inside out, kicked a rug out of place, and put a guinea on the floor. Then he +stole cautiously down stairs and set a small door at the back open. A dog +barked frantically, and he hurried back to his room. The nurse still slumbered +by the fire. +</p> + +<p> +She awoke in the morning shivering with the cold, and being jealous of her +reputation, rekindled the fire, and measuring out the dose which the invalid +should have taken, threw it away. On these unconscious preparations for an +alibi Captain Rogers gazed through half-closed lids, and then turning his grim +face to the wall, waited for the inevitable alarm. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>A TIGER’S SKIN</h2> + +<p> +The travelling sign-painter who was repainting the sign of the “Cauliflower” +was enjoying a well-earned respite from his labours. On the old table under the +shade of the elms mammoth sandwiches and a large slice of cheese waited in an +untied handkerchief until such time as his thirst should be satisfied. At the +other side of the table the oldest man in Claybury, drawing gently at a long +clay pipe, turned a dim and regretful eye up at the old signboard. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve drunk my beer under it for pretty near seventy years,” he said, with a +sigh. “It’s a pity it couldn’t ha’ lasted my time.” +</p> + +<p> +The painter, slowly pushing a wedge of sandwich into his mouth, regarded him +indulgently. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all through two young gentlemen as was passing through ’ere a month or +two ago,” continued the old man; “they told Smith, the landlord, they’d been +looking all over the place for the ‘Cauliflower,’ and when Smith showed ’em the +sign they said they thought it was the ‘George the Fourth,’ and a very good +likeness, too.” +</p> + +<p> +The painter laughed and took another look at the old sign; then, with the +nervousness of the true artist, he took a look at his own. One or two shadows— +</p> + +<p> +He flung his legs over the bench and took up his brushes. In ten minutes the +most fervent loyalist would have looked in vain for any resemblance, and with a +sigh at the pitfalls which beset the artist he returned to his interrupted meal +and hailed the house for more beer. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s nobody could mistake your sign for anything but a cauliflower,” said +the old man; “it looks good enough to eat.” +</p> + +<p> +The painter smiled and pushed his mug across the table. He was a tender-hearted +man, and once—when painting the sign of the “Sir Wilfrid Lawson”—knew himself +what it was to lack beer. He began to discourse on art, and spoke somewhat +disparagingly of the cauliflower as a subject. With a shake of his head he +spoke of the possibilities of a spotted cow or a blue lion. +</p> + +<p> +“Talking of lions,” said the ancient, musingly, “I s’pose as you never ’eard +tell of the Claybury tiger? It was afore your time in these parts, I expect.” +</p> + +<p> +The painter admitted his ignorance, and, finding that the allusion had no +reference to an inn, pulled out his pipe and prepared to listen. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a while ago now,” said the old man, slowly, “and the circus the tiger +belonged to was going through Claybury to get to Wickham, when, just as they +was passing Gill’s farm, a steam-ingine they ’ad to draw some o’ the vans broke +down, and they ’ad to stop while the blacksmith mended it. That being so, they +put up a big tent and ’ad the circus ’ere. +</p> + +<p> +“I was one o’ them as went, and I must say it was worth the money, though Henry +Walker was disappointed at the man who put ’is ’ead in the lion’s mouth. He +said that the man frightened the lion first, before ’e did it. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a great night for Claybury, and for about a week nothing else was +talked of. All the children was playing at being lions and tigers and +such-like, and young Roberts pretty near broke ’is back trying to see if he +could ride horseback standing up. +</p> + +<p> +“It was about two weeks after the circus ’ad gone when a strange thing +’appened: the big tiger broke loose. Bill Chambers brought the news first, +’aving read it in the newspaper while ’e was ’aving his tea. He brought out the +paper and showed us, and soon after we ’eard all sorts o’ tales of its doings. +</p> + +<p> +“At first we thought the tiger was a long way off, and we was rather amused at +it. Frederick Scott laughed ’imself silly a’most up ’ere one night thinking ’ow +surprised a man would be if ’e come ’ome one night and found the tiger sitting +in his armchair eating the baby. It didn’t seem much of a laughing matter to +me, and I said so; none of us liked it, and even Sam Jones, as ’ad got twins +for the second time, said ‘Shame!’ But Frederick Scott was a man as would laugh +at anything. +</p> + +<p> +“When we ’eard that the tiger ’ad been seen within three miles of Claybury +things began to look serious, and Peter Gubbins said that something ought to be +done, but before we could think of anything to do something ’appened. +</p> + +<p> +“We was sitting up ’ere one evening ’aving a mug o’ beer and a pipe—same as I +might be now if I’d got any baccy left—and talking about it, when we ’eard a +shout and saw a ragged-looking tramp running toward us as ’ard as he could run. +Every now and then he’d look over ’is shoulder and give a shout, and then run +’arder than afore. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It’s the <i>tiger!</i>’ ses Bill Chambers, and afore you could wink a’most he +was inside the house, ’aving first upset Smith and a pot o’ beer in the +doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“Before he could get up, Smith ’ad to wait till we was all in. His langwidge +was awful for a man as ’ad a license to lose, and everybody shouting ‘Tiger!’ +as they trod on ’im didn’t ease ’is mind. He was inside a’most as soon as the +last man, though, and in a flash he ’ad the door bolted just as the tramp flung +’imself agin it, all out of breath and sobbing ’is hardest to be let in. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Open the door,’ he ses, banging on it. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Go away,’ ses Smith. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It’s the tiger,’ screams the tramp; ‘open the door.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘You go away,’ ses Smith, ‘you’re attracting it to my place; run up the road +and draw it off.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Just at that moment John Biggs, the blacksmith, come in from the taproom, and +as soon as he ’eard wot was the matter ’e took down Smith’s gun from behind the +bar and said he was going out to look after the wimmen and children. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Open the door,’ he ses. +</p> + +<p> +“He was trying to get out and the tramp outside was trying to get in, but Smith +held on to that door like a Briton. Then John Biggs lost ’is temper, and he ups +with the gun—Smith’s own gun, mind you—and fetches ’im a bang over the ’ead +with it. Smith fell down at once, and afore we could ’elp ourselves the door +was open, the tramp was inside, and John Biggs was running up the road, +shouting ’is hardest. +</p> + +<p> +“We ’ad the door closed afore you could wink a’most, and then, while the tramp +lay in a corner ’aving brandy, Mrs. Smith got a bowl of water and a sponge and +knelt down bathing ’er husband’s ’ead with it. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Did you see the tiger?’ ses Bill Chambers. +</p> + +<p> +“‘See it?’ ses the tramp, with a shiver. ‘Oh, Lord!’ +</p> + +<p> +“He made signs for more brandy, and Henery Walker, wot was acting as landlord, +without being asked, gave it to ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It chased me for over a mile,’ ses the tramp; ‘my ’eart’s breaking.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He gave a groan and fainted right off. A terrible faint it was, too, and for +some time we thought ’ed never come round agin. First they poured brandy down +’is throat, then gin, and then beer, and still ’e didn’t come round, but lay +quiet with ’is eyes closed and a horrible smile on ’is face. +</p> + +<p> +“He come round at last, and with nothing stronger than water, which Mrs. Smith +kept pouring into ’is mouth. First thing we noticed was that the smile went, +then ’is eyes opened, and suddenly ’e sat up with a shiver and gave such a +dreadful scream that we thought at first the tiger was on top of us. +</p> + +<p> +“Then ’e told us ’ow he was sitting washing ’is shirt in a ditch, when he ’eard +a snuffling noise and saw the ’ead of a big tiger sticking through the hedge +the other side. He left ’is shirt and ran, and ’e said that, fortunately, the +tiger stopped to tear the shirt to pieces, else ’is last hour would ’ave +arrived. +</p> + +<p> +“When ’e ’ad finished Smith went upstairs and looked out of the bedroom +winders, but ’e couldn’t see any signs of the tiger, and ’e said no doubt it +’ad gone down to the village to see wot it could pick up, or p’raps it ’ad +eaten John Biggs. +</p> + +<p> +“However that might be, nobody cared to go outside to see, and after it got +dark we liked going ’ome less than ever. +</p> + +<p> +“Up to ten o’clock we did very well, and then Smith began to talk about ’is +license. He said it was all rubbish being afraid to go ’ome, and that, at any +rate, the tiger couldn’t eat more than one of us, and while ’e was doing that +there was the chance for the others to get ’ome safe. Two or three of ’em took +a dislike to Smith that night and told ’im so. +</p> + +<p> +“The end of it was we all slept in the tap-room that night. It seemed strange +at first, but anything was better than going ’ome in the dark, and we all slept +till about four next morning, when we woke up and found the tramp ’ad gone and +left the front door standing wide open. +</p> + +<p> +“We took a careful look-out, and by-and-by first one started off and then +another to see whether their wives and children ’ad been eaten or not. Not a +soul ’ad been touched, but the wimmen and children was that scared there was no +doing anything with ’em. None o’ the children would go to school, and they sat +at ’ome all day with the front winder blocked up with a mattress to keep the +tiger out. +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody liked going to work, but it ’ad to be done and as Farmer Gill said that +tigers went to sleep all day and only came out toward evening we was a bit +comforted. Not a soul went up to the ‘Cauliflower’ that evening for fear of +coming ’ome in the dark, but as nothing ’appened that night we began to ’ope as +the tiger ’ad travelled further on. +</p> + +<p> +“Bob Pretty laughed at the whole thing and said ’e didn’t believe there was a +tiger; but nobody minded wot ’e said, Bob Pretty being, as I’ve often told +people, the black sheep o’ Claybury, wot with poaching and, wot was worse, ’is +artfulness. +</p> + +<p> +“But the very next morning something ’appened that made Bob Pretty look silly +and wish ’e ’adn’t talked quite so fast; for at five o’clock Frederick Scott, +going down to feed ’is hins, found as the tiger ’ad been there afore ’im and +’ad eaten no less than seven of ’em. The side of the hin-’ouse was all broke +in, there was a few feathers lying on the ground, and two little chicks smashed +and dead beside ’em. +</p> + +<p> +“The way Frederick Scott went on about it you’d ’ardly believe. He said that +Govinment ’ud ’ave to make it up to ’im, and instead o’ going to work ’e put +the two little chicks and the feathers into a pudding basin and walked to +Cudford, four miles off, where they ’ad a policeman. +</p> + +<p> +“He saw the policeman, William White by name, standing at the back door of the +‘Fox and Hounds’ public house, throwing a ’andful o’ corn to the landlord’s +fowls, and the first thing Mr. White ses was, ‘it’s off my beat,’ he ses. +</p> + +<p> +“‘But you might do it in your spare time, Mr. White,’ ses Frederick Scott. It’s +very likely that the tiger’ll come back to my hin ’ouse for the rest of ’em, +and he’d be very surprised if ’e popped ’is ’ead in and see you there waiting +for ’im.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He’d ’ave reason to be,’ ses Policeman White, staring at ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Think of the praise you’d get,’ said Frederick Scott, coaxing like. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Look ’ere,’ ses Policeman White, ‘if you don’t take yourself and that pudding +basin off pretty quick, you’ll come along o’ me, d’ye see? You’ve been drinking +and you’re in a excited state.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He gave Frederick Scott a push and follered ’im along the road, and every time +Frederick stopped to ask ’im wot ’e was doing of ’e gave ’im another push to +show ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“Frederick Scott told us all about it that evening, and some of the bravest of +us went up to the ‘Cauliflower’ to talk over wot was to be done, though we took +care to get ’ome while it was quite light. That night Peter Gubbins’s two pigs +went. They were two o’ the likeliest pigs I ever seed, and all Peter Gubbins +could do was to sit up in bed shivering and listening to their squeals as the +tiger dragged ’em off. Pretty near all Claybury was round that sty next morning +looking at the broken fence. Some of them looked for the tiger’s footmarks, but +it was dry weather and they couldn’t see any. Nobody knew whose turn it would +be next, and the most sensible man there, Sam Jones, went straight off ’ome and +killed his pig afore ’e went to work. +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody knew what to do; Farmer Hall said as it was a soldier’s job, and ’e +drove over to Wickham to tell the police so, but nothing came of it, and that +night at ten minutes to twelve Bill Chambers’s pig went. It was one o’ the +biggest pigs ever raised in Claybury, but the tiger got it off as easy as +possible. Bill ’ad the bravery to look out of the winder when ’e ’eard the pig +squeal, but there was such a awful snarling noise that ’e daresn’t move ’and or +foot. +</p> + +<p> +“Dicky Weed’s idea was for people with pigs and such-like to keep ’em in the +house of a night, but Peter Gubbins and Bill Chambers both pointed out that the +tiger could break a back door with one blow of ’is paw, and that if ’e got +inside he might take something else instead o’ pig. And they said that it was +no worse for other people to lose pigs than wot it was for them. +</p> + +<p> +“The odd thing about it was that all this time nobody ’ad ever seen the tiger +except the tramp and people sent their children back to school agin and felt +safe going about in the daytime till little Charlie Gubbins came running ’ome +crying and saying that ’e’d seen it. Next morning a lot more children see it +and was afraid to go to school, and people began to wonder wot ’ud happen when +all the pigs and poultry was eaten. +</p> + +<p> +“Then Henery Walker see it. We was sitting inside ’ere with scythes, and +pitchforks, and such-like things handy, when we see ’im come in without ’is +hat. His eyes were staring and ’is hair was all rumpled. He called for a pot o’ +ale and drank it nearly off, and then ’e sat gasping and ’olding the mug +between ’is legs and shaking ’is ’ead at the floor till everybody ’ad left off +talking to look at ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Wot’s the matter, Henery?’ ses one of ’em. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Don’t ask me,’ ses Henery Walker, with a shiver. +</p> + +<p> +“‘You don’t mean to say as ’ow you’ve seen the tiger?” ses Bill Chambers. +</p> + +<p> +“Henery Walker didn’t answer ’im. He got up and walked back’ards and for’ards, +still with that frightened look in ’is eyes, and once or twice ’e give such a +terrible start that ’e frightened us ’arf out of our wits. Then Bill Chambers +took and forced ’im into a chair and give ’im two o’ gin and patted ’im on the +back, and at last Henery Walker got ’is senses back agin and told us ’ow the +tiger ’ad chased ’im all round and round the trees in Plashett’s Wood until ’e +managed to climb up a tree and escape it. He said the tiger ’ad kept ’im there +for over an hour, and then suddenly turned round and bolted off up the road to +Wickham. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a merciful escape, and everybody said so except Sam Jones, and ’e asked +so many questions that at last Henery Walker asked ’im outright if ’e +disbelieved ’is word. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It’s all right, Sam,’ ses Bob Pretty, as ’ad come in just after Henery +Walker. ‘I see ’im with the tiger after ’im.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Wot?’ ses Henery, staring at him. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I see it all, Henery,’ ses Bob Pretty, ‘and I see your pluck. It was all you +could do to make up your mind to run from it. I believe if you’d ’ad a fork in +your ‘and you’d ’ave made a fight for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Everybody said ‘Bravo!’; but Henery Walker didn’t seem to like it at all. He +sat still, looking at Bob Pretty, and at last ’e ses, ‘Where was you?’ ’e s,es. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Up another tree, Henery, where you couldn’t see me,’ ses Bob Pretty, smiling +at ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“Henery Walker, wot was drinking some beer, choked a bit, and then ’e put the +mug down and went straight off ’ome without saying a word to anybody. I knew ’e +didn’t like Bob Pretty, but I couldn’t see why ’e should be cross about ’is +speaking up for ’im as ’e had done, but Bob said as it was ’is modesty, and ’e +thought more of ’im for it. +</p> + +<p> +“After that things got worse than ever; the wimmen and children stayed indoors +and kept the doors shut, and the men never knew when they went out to work +whether they’d come ’ome agin. They used to kiss their children afore they went +out of a morning, and their wives too, some of ’em; even men who’d been married +for years did. And several more of ’em see the tiger while they was at work, +and came running ’ome to tell about it. +</p> + +<p> +“The tiger ’ad been making free with Claybury pigs and such-like for pretty +near a week, and nothing ’ad been done to try and catch it, and wot made +Claybury men madder than anything else was folks at Wickham saying it was all a +mistake, and the tiger ’adn’t escaped at all. Even parson, who’d been away for +a holiday, said so, and Henery Walker told ’is wife that if she ever set foot +inside the church agin ’ed ask ’is old mother to come and live with ’em. +</p> + +<p> +“It was all very well for parson to talk, but the very night he come back +Henery Walker’s pig went, and at the same time George Kettle lost five or six +ducks. +</p> + +<p> +“He was a quiet man, was George, but when ’is temper was up ’e didn’t care for +anything. Afore he came to Claybury ’e ’ad been in the Militia, and that +evening at the ‘Cauliflower’ ’e turned up with a gun over ’is shoulder and made +a speech, and asked who was game to go with ’im and hunt the tiger. Bill +Chambers, who was still grieving after ’is pig, said ’e would, then another man +offered, until at last there was seventeen of ’em. Some of ’em ’ad scythes and +some pitchforks, and one or two of ’em guns, and it was one o’ the finest +sights I ever seed when George Kettle stood ’em in rows of four and marched ’em +off. +</p> + +<p> +“They went straight up the road, then across Farmer Gill’s fields to get to +Plashett’s wood, where they thought the tiger ’ud most likely be, and the +nearer they got to the wood the slower they walked. The sun ’ad just gone down +and the wood looked very quiet and dark, but John Biggs, the blacksmith, and +George Kettle walked in first and the others follered, keeping so close +together that Sam Jones ’ad a few words over his shoulder with Bill Chambers +about the way ’e was carrying ’is pitchfork. +</p> + +<p> +“Every now and then somebody ’ud say, ‘<i>Wot’s that!</i>’ and they’d all stop +and crowd together and think the time ’ad come, but it ’adn’t, and then they’d +go on agin, trembling, until they’d walked all round the wood without seeing +anything but one or two rabbits. John Biggs and George Kettle wanted for to +stay there till it was dark, but the others wouldn’t ’ear of it for fear of +frightening their wives, and just as it was getting dark they all come tramp, +tramp, back to the ‘Cauliflower’ agin. +</p> + +<p> +“Smith stood ’em ’arf a pint apiece, and they was all outside ’ere fancying +theirselves a bit for wot they’d done when we see old man Parsley coming along +on two sticks as fast as ’e could come. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Are you brave lads a-looking for the tiger?’ he asks. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Yes,’ ses John Biggs. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Then ’urry up, for the sake of mercy,’ ses old Mr. Parsley, putting ’is ’and +on the table and going off into a fit of coughing; ‘it’s just gone into Bob +Pretty’s cottage. I was passing and saw it.’ +</p> + +<p> +“George Kettle snatches up ’is gun and shouts out to ’is men to come along. +Some of ’em was for ’anging back at first, some because they didn’t like the +tiger and some because they didn’t like Bob Pretty, but John Biggs drove ’em in +front of ’im like a flock o’ sheep and then they gave a cheer and ran after +George Kettle, full pelt up the road. +</p> + +<p> +“A few wimmen and children was at their doors as they passed, but they took +fright and went indoors screaming. There was a lamp in Bob Pretty’s front room, +but the door was closed and the ’ouse was silent as the grave. +</p> + +<p> +“George Kettle and the men with the guns went first, then came the pitchforks, +and last of all the scythes. Just as George Kettle put ’is ’and on the door he +’eard something moving inside, and the next moment the door opened and there +stood Bob Pretty. +</p> + +<p> +“‘What the dickens!’ ’e ses, starting back as ’e see the guns and pitchforks +pointing at ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“‘’Ave you killed it, Bob?’ ses George Kettle. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Killed <i>wot?</i>’ ses Bob Pretty. ‘Be careful o’ them guns. Take your +fingers off the triggers.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘The tiger’s in your ’ouse, Bob,’ ses George Kettle, in a whisper. ‘’Ave you +on’y just come in?’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Look ’ere,’ ses Bob Pretty. ‘I don’t want any o’ your games. You go and play +’em somewhere else.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘It ain’t a game,’ ses John Biggs; ‘the tiger’s in your ’ouse and we’re going +to kill it. Now, then, lads.’ +</p> + +<p> +“They all went in in a ’eap, pushing Bob Pretty in front of ’em, till the room +was full. Only one man with a scythe got in, and they wouldn’t ’ave let ’im in +if they’d known. It a’most made ’em forget the tiger for the time. +</p> + +<p> +“George Kettle opened the door wot led into the kitchen, and then ’e sprang +back with such a shout that the man with the scythe tried to escape, taking +Henery Walker along with ’im. George Kettle tried to speak, but couldn’t. All +’e could do was to point with ’is finger at Bob Pretty’s kitchen—<i>and Bob +Pretty’s kitchen was for all the world like a pork-butcher’s shop</i>. There +was joints o’ pork ’anging from the ceiling, two brine tubs as full as they +could be, and quite a string of fowls and ducks all ready for market. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Wot d’ye mean by coming into my ’ouse?’ ses Bob Pretty, blustering. ‘If you +don’t clear out pretty quick, I’ll make you.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody answered ’im; they was all examining ’ands o’ pork and fowls and +such-like. +</p> + +<p> +“‘There’s the tiger,’ ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; ‘that’s wot +old man Parsley meant.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Somebody go and fetch Policeman White,’ ses a voice. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I wish they would,’ ses Bob Pretty. ‘I’ll ’ave the law on you all for +breaking into my ’ouse like this, see if I don’t.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Where’d you get all this pork from?’ ses the blacksmith. +</p> + +<p> +“‘And them ducks and hins?’ ses George Kettle. +</p> + +<p> +“‘That’s my bisness,’ ses Bob Pretty, staring ’em full in the face. ‘I just ’ad +a excellent oppertunity offered me of going into the pork and poultry line and +I took it. Now, all them as doesn’t want to buy any pork or fowls go out o’ my +house.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘You’re a thief, Bob Pretty!’ says Henery Walker. ‘You stole it all.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Take care wot you’re saying, Henery,’ ses Bob Pretty, ‘else I’ll make you +prove your words.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘You stole my pig,’ ses Herbert Smith. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Oh, ’ave I?’ ses Bob, reaching down a ’and o’ pork. ‘Is that your pig?’ he +ses. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It’s just about the size o’ my pore pig,’ ses Herbert Smith. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Very usual size, I call it,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘and them ducks and hins very +usual-looking hins and ducks, I call ’em, except that they don’t grow ’em so +fat in these parts. It’s a fine thing when a man’s doing a honest bisness to +’ave these charges brought agin ’im. Dis’eartening, I call it. I don’t mind +telling you that the tiger got in at my back winder the other night and took +arf a pound o’ sausage, but you don’t ’ear me complaining and going about +calling other people thieves.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Tiger be hanged,’ ses Henery Walker, who was almost certain that a loin o’ +pork on the table was off ’is pig; ‘you’re the only tiger in these parts.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Henery,’ ses Bob Pretty, ‘wot are you a-thinkin’ of? Where’s your memory? +Why, it’s on’y two or three days ago you see it and ’ad to get up a tree out of +its way.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He smiled and shook ’is ’ead at ’im, but Henery Walker on’y kept opening and +shutting ’is mouth, and at last ’e went outside without saying a word. +</p> + +<p> +“‘And Sam Jones see it, too,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘didn’t you, Sam?’ +</p> + +<p> +“Sam didn’t answer ’im. +</p> + +<p> +“‘And Charlie Hall and Jack Minns and a lot more,’ ses Bob; ‘besides, I see it +myself. I can believe my own eyes, I s’pose?’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘We’ll have the law on you,’ ses Sam Jones. +</p> + +<p> +“‘As <i>you</i> like,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘but I tell you plain, I’ve got all the +bills for this properly made out, upstairs. And there’s pretty near a dozen of +you as’ll ’ave to go in the box and swear as you saw the tiger. Now, can I sell +any of you a bit o’ pork afore you go? It’s delicious eating, and as soon as +you taste it you’ll know it wasn’t grown in Claybury. Or a pair o’ ducks wot +’ave come from two ’undered miles off, and yet look as fresh as if they was +on’y killed last night.’ +</p> + +<p> +“George Kettle, whose ducks ’ad gone the night afore, went into the front room +and walked up and down fighting for ’is breath, but it was all no good; nobody +ever got the better o’ Bob Pretty. None of ’em could swear to their property, +and even when it became known a month later that Bob Pretty and the tramp knew +each other, nothing was done. But nobody ever ’eard any more of the tiger from +that day to this.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>A MIXED PROPOSAL</h2> + +<p> +Major Brill, late of the Fenshire Volunteers, stood in front of the small piece +of glass in the hatstand, and with a firm and experienced hand gave his new +silk hat a slight tilt over the right eye. Then he took his cane and a new pair +of gloves, and with a military but squeaky tread, passed out into the road. It +was a glorious day in early autumn, and the soft English landscape was looking +its best, but despite the fact that there was nothing more alarming in sight +than a few cows on the hillside a mile away, the Major paused at his gate, and +his face took on an appearance of the greatest courage and resolution before +proceeding. The road was dusty and quiet, except for the children playing at +cottage doors, and so hot that the Major, heedless of the fact that he could +not replace the hat at exactly the same angle, stood in the shade of a tree +while he removed it and mopped his heated brow. +</p> + +<p> +He proceeded on his way more leisurely, overtaking, despite his lack of speed, +another man who was walking still more slowly in the shade of the hedge. +</p> + +<p> +“Fine day, Halibut,” he said, briskly; “fine day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Beautiful,” said the other, making no attempt to keep pace with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Country wants rain, though,” cried the Major over his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +Halibut assented, and walking slowly on, wondered vaguely what gaudy color it +was that had attracted his eye. It dawned on him at length that it must be the +Major’s tie, and he suddenly quickened his pace, by no means reassured as the +man of war also quickened his. +</p> + +<p> +“Halloa, Brill!” he cried. “Half a moment.” +</p> + +<p> +The Major stopped and waited for his friend; Halibut eyed the tie uneasily—it +was fearfully and wonderfully made—but said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said the Major, somewhat sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh—I was going to ask you, Brill—Confound it! I’ve forgotten what I was going +to say now. I daresay I shall soon think of it. You’re not in a hurry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I am, rather,” said Brill. “Fact is— Is my hat on straight, Halibut?” +</p> + +<p> +The other assuring him that it was, the Major paused in his career, and +gripping the brim with both hands, deliberately tilted it over the right eye +again. +</p> + +<p> +“You were saying—” said Halibut, regarding this manoeuvre with secret +disapproval. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” murmured the Major, “I was saying. Well, I don’t mind telling an old +friend like you, Halibut, though it is a profound secret. Makes me rather +particular about my dress just now. Women notice these things. I’m—sha’nt get +much sympathy from a confirmed old bachelor like you—but I’m on my way to put a +very momentous question.” +</p> + +<p> +“The devil you are!” said the other, blankly. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir!” said the astonished Major. +</p> + +<p> +“Not Mrs. Riddel?” said Halibut. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, sir,” said the Major, stiffly. “Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only that I am going on the same errand,” said the confirmed bachelor, with +desperate calmness. +</p> + +<p> +The Major looked at him, and for the first time noticed an unusual neatness and +dressiness in his friend’s attire. His collar was higher than usual; his tie, +of the whitest and finest silk, bore a pin he never remembered to have seen +before; and for the first time since he had known him, the Major, with a +strange sinking at the heart, saw that he wore spats. +</p> + +<p> +“This is extraordinary,” he said, briefly. “Well, good-day, Halibut. Can’t +stop.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-day,” said the other. +</p> + +<p> +The Major quickened his pace and shot ahead, and keeping in the shade of the +hedge, ground his teeth as the civilian on the other side of the road slowly, +but surely, gained on him. +</p> + +<p> +It became exciting. The Major was handicapped by his upright bearing and short +military stride; the other, a simple child of the city, bent forward, swinging +his arms and taking immense strides. At a by-lane they picked up three small +boys, who, trotting in their rear, made it evident by their remarks that they +considered themselves the privileged spectators of a foot-race. The Major could +stand it no longer, and with a cut of his cane at the foremost boy, softly +called a halt. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Halibut, stopping. +</p> + +<p> +The man’s manner was suspicious, not to say offensive, and the other had much +ado to speak him fair. +</p> + +<p> +“This is ridiculous,” he said, trying to smile. “We can’t walk in and propose +in a duet. One of us must go to-day and the other to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Halibut; “that’ll be the best plan.” +</p> + +<p> +“So childish,” said the Major, with a careless laugh, “two fellows walking in +hot and tired and proposing to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Absurd,” replied Halibut, and both men eyed each other carefully. +</p> + +<p> +“So, if I’m unsuccessful, old chap,” said the Major, in a voice which he strove +to render natural and easy, “I will come straight back to your place and let +you know, so as not to keep you in suspense.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very good,” said Halibut, with some emotion; “but I think I’ll take +to-day, because I have every reason to believe that I have got one of my +bilious attacks coming on to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh! fancy, my dear fellow,” said the Major, heartily; “I never saw you look +better in my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s one of the chief signs,” replied Halibut, shaking his head. “I’m afraid +I must go to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“I really cannot waive my right on account of your bilious attack,” said the +Major haughtily. +</p> + +<p> +“Your <i>right?</i>” said Halibut, with spirit. +</p> + +<p> +“My right!” repeated the other. “I should have been there before you if you had +not stopped me in the first place.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I started first,” said Halibut. +</p> + +<p> +“Prove it,” exclaimed the Major, warmly. +</p> + +<p> +The other shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall certainly not give way,” he said, calmly. “This is a matter in which +my whole future is concerned. It seems very odd, not to say inconvenient, that +you should have chosen the same day as myself, Brill, for such an errand—very +odd.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s quite an accident,” asseverated the Major; “as a matter of fact, Halibut, +I nearly went yesterday. That alone gives me, I think, some claim to +precedence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so,” said Halibut, slowly; “it constitutes an excellent claim.” +</p> + +<p> +The Major regarded him with moistening eyes. This was generous and noble. His +opinion of Halibut rose. “And now you have been so frank with me,” said the +latter, “it is only fair that you should know I started out with the same +intention three days ago and found her out. So far as claims go, I think mine +leads.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pure matter of opinion,” said the disgusted Major; “it really seems as though +we want an arbitrator. Well, we’ll have to make our call together, I suppose, +but I’ll take care not to give you any opportunity, Halibut, so don’t cherish +any delusions on that point. Even <i>you</i> wouldn’t have the hardihood to +propose before a third party, I should think; but if you do, I give you fair +warning that I shall begin, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is most unseemly,” said Halibut. “We’d better both go home and leave it +for another day.” +</p> + +<p> +“When do you propose going, then?” asked the Major. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I haven’t made up my mind,” replied the other. +</p> + +<p> +The Major shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t do, Halibut,” he said, grimly; “it won’t do. I’m too old a soldier to +be caught that way.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long pause. The Major mopped his brow again. “I’ve got it,” he said +at last. +</p> + +<p> +Halibut looked at him curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“We must play for first proposal,” said the Major, firmly. “We’re pretty evenly +matched.” +</p> + +<p> +“Chess?” gasped the other, a whole world of protest in his tones. +</p> + +<p> +“Chess,” repeated the Major. +</p> + +<p> +“It is hardly respectful,” demurred Halibut. “What do you think the lady would +do if she heard of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Laugh,” replied the Major, with conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe she would,” said the other, brightening. “I believe she would.” +</p> + +<p> +“You agree, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“With conditions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Conditions?” repeated the Major. +</p> + +<p> +“One game,” said Halibut, speaking very slowly and distinctly; “and if the +winner is refused, the loser not to propose until he gives him permission.” +</p> + +<p> +“What the deuce for?” inquired the other, suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose I win,” replied Halibut, with suspicious glibness, “and was so upset +that I had one of my bilious attacks come on, where should I be? Why, I might +have to break off in the middle and go home. A fellow can’t propose when +everything in the room is going round and round.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think you ought to contemplate marriage, Halibut,” remarked the Major, +very seriously and gently. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks,” said Halibut, dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said the Major, “I agree to the conditions. Better come to my +place and we’ll decide it now. If we look sharp, the winner may be able to know +his fate to-day, after all.” +</p> + +<p> +Halibut assenting, they walked back together. The feverish joy of the gambler +showed in the Major’s eye as they drew their chairs up to the little antique +chess table and began to place their pieces ready for the fray. Then a thought +struck him, and he crossed over to the sideboard. +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re feeling a bit off colour, Halibut,” he said, kindly, “you’d better +have a little brandy to pull yourself together. I don’t wish to take a mean +advantage.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very good,” said the other, as he eyed the noble measure of liquid +poured out by his generous adversary. +</p> + +<p> +“And now to business,” said the Major, as he drew himself a little soda from a +siphon. +</p> + +<p> +“Now to business,” repeated Halibut, rising and placing his glass on the +mantel-piece. +</p> + +<p> +The Major struggled fiercely with his feelings, but, despite himself, a guilty +blush lent colour to the other’s unfounded suspicions. +</p> + +<p> +“Remember the conditions,” said Halibut, impressively. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s my hand on it,” said the other, reaching over. +</p> + +<p> +Halibut took it, and, his thoughts being at the moment far away, gave it a +tender, respectful squeeze. The Major stared and coughed. It was suggestive of +practice. +</p> + +<p> +If the history of the duel is ever written, it will be found not unworthy of +being reckoned with the most famous combats of ancient times. Piece after piece +was removed from the board, and the Major drank glass after glass of soda to +cool his heated brain. At the second glass Halibut took an empty tumbler and +helped himself. Suddenly there was a singing in the Major’s ears, and a voice, +a hateful, triumphant voice, said, +</p> + +<p> +“Checkmate!” +</p> + +<p> +Then did his gaze wander from knight to bishop and bishop to castle in a vain +search for succour. There was his king defied by a bishop—a bishop which had +been hobnobbing with pawns in one corner of the board, and which he could have +sworn he had captured and removed full twenty minutes before. He mentioned this +impression to Halibut. +</p> + +<p> +“That was the other one,” said his foe. “I thought you had forgotten this. I +have been watching and hoping so for the last half-hour.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no disguising the coarse satisfaction of the man. He had watched and +hoped. Not beaten him, so the Major told himself, in fair play, but by taking a +mean and pitiful advantage of a pure oversight. A sheer oversight. He admitted +it. +</p> + +<p> +Halibut rose with a sigh of relief, and the Major, mechanically sweeping up the +pieces, dropped them one by one into the box. +</p> + +<p> +“Plenty of time,” said the victor, glancing at the clock. “I shall go now, but +I should like a wash first.” +</p> + +<p> +The Major rose, and in his capacity of host led the way upstairs to his room, +and poured fresh water for his foe. Halibut washed himself delicately, +carefully trimming his hair and beard, and anxiously consulting the Major as to +the set of his coat in the back, after he had donned it again. +</p> + +<p> +His toilet completed, he gave a satisfied glance in the glass, and then +followed the man of war sedately down stairs. At the hall he paused, and busied +himself with the clothes-brush and hat-pad, modestly informing his glaring +friend that he could not afford to throw any chances away, and then took his +departure. +</p> + +<p> +The Major sat up late that night waiting for news, but none came, and by +breakfast-time next morning his thirst for information became almost +uncontrollable. He toyed with a chop and allowed his coffee to get cold. Then +he clapped on his hat and set off to Halibut’s to know the worst. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” he inquired, as he followed the other into his dining-room. +</p> + +<p> +“I went,” said Halibut, waving him to a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I to congratulate you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t know,” was the reply; “perhaps not just yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by that?” said the Major, irascibly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as a matter of fact,” said Halibut, “she refused me, but so nicely and +so gently that I scarcely minded it. In fact, at first I hardly realized that +she had refused me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Major rose, and regarding his poor friend kindly, shook and patted him +lightly on the shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a splendid woman,” said Halibut. “Ornament to her sex,” remarked the +Major. +</p> + +<p> +“So considerate,” murmured the bereaved one. +</p> + +<p> +“Good women always are,” said the Major, decisively. “I don’t think I’d better +worry her to-day, Halibut, do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t,” said Halibut, stiffly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll try my luck to-morrow,” said the Major. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said Halibut. +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” said the Major, trying to look puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“You are forgetting the conditions of the game,” replied Halibut. “You have to +obtain my permission first.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, my dear fellow,” said the Major, with a boisterous laugh. “I wouldn’t +insult you by questioning your generosity in such a case. No, no, Halibut, old +fellow, I know you too well.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with feeling, but there was an anxious note in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“We must abide by the conditions,” said Halibut, slowly; “and I must inform +you, Brill, that I intend to renew the attack myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, sir,” said the Major, fuming, “you compel me to say—putting all modesty +aside—that I believe the reason Mrs. Riddel would have nothing to do with you +was because she thought <i>somebody else</i> might make a similar offer.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I thought,” said Halibut, simply; “but you see now that you have +so unaccountably—so far as Mrs. Riddel is concerned—dropped out of the running, +perhaps, if I am gently persistent, she’ll take me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Major rose and glared at him. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t take care, old chap,” said Halibut, tenderly, “you’ll burst +something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gently persistent,” repeated the Major, staring at him; “gently persistent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Remember Bruce and his spider,” smiled the other. +</p> + +<p> +“You are <i>not</i> going to propose to that poor woman nine times?” roared his +incensed friend. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope that it will not be necessary,” was the reply; “but if it is, I can +assure you, my dear Brill, that I’m not going to be outclassed by a mere +spider.” +</p> + +<p> +“But think of her feelings!” gasped the Major. +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” was the reply; “and I’m sure she’ll thank me for it afterward. You +see, Brill, you and I are the only eligibles in the place, and now you are out +of it, she’s sure to take me sooner or later.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray how long am I to wait?” demanded the Major, controlling himself with +difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t say,” said Halibut; “but I don’t think it’s any good your waiting at +all, because if I see any signs that Mrs. Riddel is waiting for you I may just +give her a hint of the hopelessness of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a perfect Mephistopheles, sir!” bawled the indignant Major. Halibut +bowed. +</p> + +<p> +“Strategy, my dear Brill,” he said, smiling; “strategy. Now why waste your +time? Why not make some other woman happy? Why not try her companion, Miss +Philpotts? I’m sure any little assistance—” +</p> + +<p> +The Major’s attitude was so alarming that the sentence was never finished, and +a second later the speaker found himself alone, watching his irate friend +hurrying frantically down the path, knocking the blooms off the geraniums with +his cane as he went. He saw no more of him for several weeks, the Major +preferring to cherish his resentment in the privacy of his house. The Major +also refrained from seeing the widow, having a wholesome dread as to what +effect the contemplation of her charms might have upon his plighted word. +</p> + +<p> +He met her at last by chance. Mrs. Riddel bowed coldly and would have passed +on, but the Major had already stopped, and was making wild and unmerited +statements about the weather. +</p> + +<p> +“It is seasonable,” she said, simply. +</p> + +<p> +The Major agreed with her, and with a strong-effort regained his composure. +</p> + +<p> +“I was just going to turn back,” he said, untruthfully; “may I walk with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not going far,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +With soldierly courage the Major took this as permission; with feminine +precision Mrs. Riddel walked about fifty yards and then stopped. “I told you I +wasn’t going far,” she said sweetly, as she held out her hand. “Goodby.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to ask you something,” said the Major, turning with her. “I can’t +think what it was. +</p> + +<p> +They walked on very slowly, the Major’s heart beating rapidly as he told +himself that the lady’s coldness was due to his neglect of the past few weeks, +and his wrath against Halibut rose to still greater heights as he saw the cruel +position in which that schemer had placed him. Then he made a sudden +resolution. There was no condition as to secrecy, and, first turning the +conversation on to indoor amusements, he told the astonished Mrs. Riddel the +full particulars of the fatal game. Mrs. Riddel said that she would never +forgive them; it was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard of. And she +demanded hotly whether she was to spend the rest of her life in refusing Mr. +Halibut. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you play high as a rule?” she inquired, scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Sixpence a game,” replied the Major, simply. +</p> + +<p> +The corners of Mrs. Riddel’s mouth relaxed, and her fine eyes began to water; +then she turned her head away and laughed. “It was very foolish of us, I +admit,” said the Major, ruefully, “and very wrong. I shouldn’t have told you, +only I couldn’t explain my apparent neglect without.” +</p> + +<p> +“Apparent neglect?” repeated the widow, somewhat haughtily. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, put it down to a guilty conscience,” said the Major; “it seems years to +me since I have seen you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Remember the conditions, Major Brill,” said Mrs. Riddel, with severity. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not transgress them,” replied the Major, seriously. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Riddel gave her head a toss, and regarded him from the corner of her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I am very angry with you, indeed,” she said, severely. The Major apologized +again. “For losing,” added the lady, looking straight before her. +</p> + +<p> +Major Brill caught his breath and his knees trembled beneath him. He made a +half-hearted attempt to seize her hand, and then remembering his position, +sighed deeply and looked straight before him. They walked on in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said his companion at last, “that, if you like, you can get back at +cribbage what you lost at chess. That is, of course, if you really want to.” +</p> + +<p> +“He wouldn’t play,” said the Major, shaking his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No, but I will,” said Mrs. Riddel, with a smile. “I think I’ve got a plan.” +</p> + +<p> +She blushed charmingly, and then, in modest alarm at her boldness, dropped her +voice almost to a whisper. The Major gazed at her in speechless admiration and +threw back his head in ecstasy. “Come round to-morrow afternoon,” said Mrs. +Riddel, pausing at the end of the lane. “Mr. Halibut shall be there, too, and +it shall be done under his very eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +Until that time came the Major sat at home carefully rehearsing his part, and +it was with an air of complacent virtue that he met the somewhat astonished +gaze of the persistent Halibut next day. It was a bright afternoon, but they +sat indoors, and Mrs. Riddel, after an animated description of a game at +cribbage with Miss Philpotts the night before, got the cards out and challenged +Halibut to a game. +</p> + +<p> +They played two, both of which the diplomatic Halibut lost; then Mrs. Riddel, +dismissing him as incompetent, sat drumming on the table with her fingers, and +at length challenged the Major. She lost the first game easily, and began the +second badly. Finally, after hastily glancing at a new hand, she flung the +cards petulantly on the table, face downward. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you like my hand, Major Brill?” she demanded, with a blush. +</p> + +<p> +“Better than anything in the world,” cried the Major, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +Halibut started, and Miss Philpotts nearly had an accident with her crochet +hook. The only person who kept cool was Mrs. Riddel, and it was quite clear to +the beholders that she had realized neither the ambiguity of her question nor +the meaning of her opponent’s reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you may have it,” she said, brightly. +</p> + +<p> +Before Miss Philpotts could lay down her work, before Mr. Halibut could +interpose, the Major took possession of Mrs. Riddel’s small white hand and +raised it gallantly to his lips. Mrs. Riddel, with a faint scream which was a +perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. “I meant my hand +of cards,” she said, breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Brill, really,” said Halibut, stepping forward fussily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” said the Major, blankly; “cards!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I meant, of course,” said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself with a +laugh. “I had no idea still—if you prefer—-” The Major took her hand again, and +Miss Philpotts set Mr. Halibut an example—which he did not follow—by gazing +meditatively out of the window. Finally she gathered up her work and quitted +the room. Mrs. Riddel smiled over at Mr. Halibut and nodded toward the Major. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus06"></a> +<img src="images/006.jpg" width="456" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his +conclusions?”</p> +</div> + +<p> +“Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?” she +inquired, softly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell Major Brill what I think of him when I get him alone,” said the +injured gentleman, sourly. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>AN ADULTERATION ACT</h2> + +<p> +Dr. Frank Carson had been dreaming tantalizing dreams of cooling, effervescent +beverages. Over and over again in his dreams he had risen from his bed, and +tripping lightly down to the surgery in his pajamas, mixed himself something +long and cool and fizzy, without being able to bring the dream to a +satisfactory termination. +</p> + +<p> +With a sudden start he awoke. The thirst was still upon him; the materials for +quenching it, just down one flight of stairs. He would have smacked his lips at +the prospect if they had been moist enough to smack; as it was, he pushed down +the bedclothes, and throwing one leg out of bed-became firmly convinced that he +was still dreaming. +</p> + +<p> +For the atmosphere was stifling and odorous, and the ceiling descended in an +odd bulging curve to within a couple of feet of his head. Still half asleep, he +raised his fist and prodded at it in astonishment—a feeling which gave way to +one of stupefaction as the ceiling took another shape and swore distinctly. +</p> + +<p> +“I <i>must</i> be dreaming,” mused the doctor; “even the ceiling seems alive.” +</p> + +<p> +He prodded it again-regarding it closely this time. The ceiling at once rose to +greater altitudes, and at the same moment an old face with bushy whiskers +crawled under the edge of it, and asked him profanely what he meant by it. It +also asked him whether he wanted something for himself, because, if so, he was +going the right way to work. +</p> + +<p> +“Where am I?” demanded the bewildered doctor. “<i>Mary! Mary!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +He started up in bed, and brought his head in sudden violent contact with the +ceiling. Then, before the indignant ceiling could carry out its threat of a +moment before, he slipped out of bed and stood on a floor which was in its +place one moment and somewhere else the next. +</p> + +<p> +In the smell of bilge-water, tar, and the foetid atmosphere generally his +clouded brain awoke to the fact that he was on board ship, but resolutely +declined to inform him how he got there. He looked down in disgust at the +ragged clothes which he had on in lieu of the usual pajamas; and then, as +events slowly pieced themselves together in his mind, remembered, as the last +thing that he could remember, that he had warned his friend Harry Thomson, +solicitor, that if he had any more to drink it would not be good for him. +</p> + +<p> +He wondered dimly as he stood whether Thomson was there too, and walking +unsteadily round the forecastle, roused the sleepers, one by one, and asked +them whether they were Harry Thomson, all answering with much fluency in the +negative, until he came to one man who for some time made no answer at all. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook him first and then punched him. Then he shook him again and +gave him little scientific slaps, until at length Harry Thomson, in a far-away +voice, said that he was all right. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m glad I’m not alone,” said the doctor, selfishly. “<i>Harry! Harry! +Wake up!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“All ri’!” said the sleeper; “I’m all ri’!” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook him again, and then rolled him backward and forward in his +bunk. Under this gentle treatment the solicitor’s faculties were somewhat +brightened, and, half opening his eyes, he punched viciously at the disturber +of his peace, until threatening voices from the gloom promised to murder both +of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are we?” demanded the doctor, of a deep voice from the other side of the +forecastle which had been particularly threatening. +</p> + +<p> +“Barque <i>Stella</i>, o’ course,” was the reply. “Where’d you think you was?” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor gripped the edge of his friend’s bunk and tried to think; then, a +feeling of nausea overcoming all others, he clambered hurriedly up the +forecastle ladder and lurched to the side of the vessel. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned there for some time without moving, a light breeze cooling his +fevered brow, and a small schooner some little distance from them playing +seesaw, as he closed his eyes to the heaving blue sea. Land was conspicuous by +its absence, and with a groan he turned and looked about him—at the white +scrubbed deck, the snowy canvas towering aloft on lazily creaking spars, and +the steersman leaning against the wheel regarding the officer who stood near +by. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Carson, feeling a little better, walked sternly aft, the officer turning +round and glancing in surprise at his rags as he approached. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” began the doctor, in superior tones. +</p> + +<p> +“And what the devil do you want?” demanded the second officer; “who told you to +come along here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want to know what this means,” said the doctor, fiercely. “How dare you +kidnap us on your beastly bilge-tank?” +</p> + +<p> +“Man’s mad,” murmured the astonished second officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Insufferable outrage!” continued the doctor. “Take us back to Melbourne at +once.” +</p> + +<p> +“You get for’ard,” said the other sharply; “get for’ard, and don’t let me have +any more of your lip.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see the captain of this ship,” cried the doctor; “go and fetch him +at once.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus07"></a> +<img src="images/007.jpg" width="454" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">He saw another tatterdemalion coming toward him.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The second officer gazed at him, limp with astonishment, and then turned to the +steersman, as though unable to believe his ears. The steersman pointed in front +of him, and the other gave a cry of surprise and rage as he saw another +tatterdemalion coming with uncertain steps toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“Carson,” said the new arrival, feebly; and coming closer to his friend, clung +to him miserably. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m just having it out with ’em, Thomson,” said the doctor, energetically. “My +friend here is a solicitor. Tell him what’ll happen if they don’t take us back, +Harry.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to be unaware, my good fellow,” said the solicitor, covering a large +hole in the leg of his trousers with his hand, “of the very dangerous situation +in which you have placed yourselves. We have no desire to be harsh with you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” acquiesced the doctor, nodding at the second officer. +</p> + +<p> +“At the same time,” continued Mr. Thomson—“at the—” He let go his friend’s arm +and staggered away; the doctor gazed after him sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +“His digestion is not all it should be,” he said to the second officer, +confidentially. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t get for’ard in two twos,” said that gentleman, explosively, “I’ll +knock your heads off.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor gazed at him in haughty disdain, and taking the limp Thomson by the +arm, led him slowly away. +</p> + +<p> +“How did we get here?” asked Mr. Harry Thomson, feebly. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“How did we get these disgusting clothes on?” continued his friend. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook his head again. “The last thing I can remember, Harry,” he +said, slowly, “was imploring you not to drink any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t hear you,” said the solicitor, crustily; “your speech was very +indistinct last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seemed so to you, I dare say,” said the other. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Thomson shook his arm off, and clinging to the mainmast, leaned his cheek +against it and closed his eyes. He opened them again at the sound of voices, +and drew himself up as he saw the second officer coming along with a +stern-visaged man of about fifty. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you the master of this vessel?” inquired the doctor, stepping to his +friend’s side. +</p> + +<p> +“What the blazes has that got to do with you?” demanded the skipper. “Look +here, my lads; don’t you play any of your little games on me, because they +won’t do. You’re both of you as drunk as owls.” +</p> + +<p> +“Defamation of character,” said the solicitor, feebly, to his friend. +</p> + +<p> +“Allow me,” said the doctor, with his best manner, “to inquire what all this +means. I am Dr. Frank Carson, of Melbourne; this gentleman is my friend Mr. +Thomson, of the same place, solicitor.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>What?</i>” roared the skipper, the veins in his forehead standing out. +“Doctor! Solicitor! Why, you damned rascals, you shipped with me as cook and A. +B.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s some mistake,” said the doctor. “I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to +take us back. I hope you haven’t come far.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take those scarecrows away,” cried the skipper, hoarsely; “take them away +before I do them a mischief. I’ll have the law of somebody for shipping two +useless lubbers as seamen. Look to me like pickpockets.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall answer for this,” said Carson, foaming; “we’re professional men, and +we’re not going to be abused by a bargee.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let him talk,” said Mr. Thomson, hurriedly drawing his friend away from the +irate skipper. “Let him talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll put you both in quod when we get to Hong-kong,” said the skipper. +“Meantime, no work, no food; d’ye hear? Start and cook the breakfast, Mr. +Doctor; and you. Mr. Lawyer, turn to and ask the boy to teach you an A. B’s +duties.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked back to the cabin; and the new cook was slowly pushed toward the +galley by the second officer, the new A. B., under the same gentle guidance, +being conducted back to the forecastle. +</p> + +<p> +Fortunately for the new seamen the weather continued fine, but the heat of the +galley was declared by the new cook to be insupportable. From the other hands +they learned that they had been shipped with several others by a resourceful +boarding-house master. The other hands, being men of plain speech, also said +that they were brought aboard in a state of beastly and enviable intoxication, +and chaffed crudely when the doctor attributed their apparent state of +intoxication to drugs. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus08"></a> +<img src="images/008.jpg" width="366" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“You say you’re a doctor?”</p> +</div> + +<p> +“You say you’re a doctor?” said the oldest seaman. +</p> + +<p> +“I am,” said Carson, fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot sort of a doctor are you, if you don’t know when your licker’s been played +with, then?” asked the old man, as a grin passed slowly from mouth to mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it is because I drink so seldom,” said the doctor, loftily. “I +hardly know the taste of liquor myself, while as for my friend Mr. Thomson, you +might almost call him a teetotaler. +</p> + +<p> +“Next door to one,” said the solicitor, who was sewing a patch on his trousers, +as he looked up approvingly. +</p> + +<p> +“You <i>might</i> call ’im a sailor, if you liked,” said another seaman, “but +that wouldn’t make him one. All I can say is I never ’ad enough time or money +to get in the state you was both in when you come aboard.” +</p> + +<p> +If the forecastle was incredulous, the cabin was worse. The officers at first +took but little notice of them, but feeling their torn and tattered appearance +was against them, they put on so many airs and graces to counteract this that +flesh and blood could not endure it quietly. The cook would allude to his +friend as Mr. Thomson, while the A. B. would persist in referring, with a most +affected utterance, to Dr. Carson. +</p> + +<p> +“Cook!” bawled the skipper one day when they were about a week out. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Carson, who was peeling potatoes, stepped slowly out of the galley and went +toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“You say ‘Sir,’ when you’re spoken to,” said the skipper, fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor sneered. +</p> + +<p> +“My — if you sneer at me, I’ll knock your head off!” said the other, with a +wicked look. +</p> + +<p> +“When you get back to Melbourne,” said the doctor, quietly, “you’ll hear more +of this.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a couple of pickpockets aping the gentleman,” said the skipper, and he +turned to the mate. “Mr. Mackenzie, what do these two ragamuffins look like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pickpockets,” said the mate, dutifully. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a very handy thing,” said the old man, jeeringly, “to have a doctor +aboard. First time I’ve carried a surgeon.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Mackenzie guffawed loudly. +</p> + +<p> +“And a solicitor,” said the skipper, gazing darkly at the hapless Harry +Thomson, who was cleaning brasswork. “Handy in case of disputes. He’s a real +sea lawyer. <i>Cook!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir?” said the doctor, quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Go down and tidy my cabin, and see you do it well.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor went below without a word, and worked like a housemaid. When he came +on deck again, his face wore a smile almost of happiness, and his hand caressed +one trousers pocket as though it concealed a hidden weapon. +</p> + +<p> +For the following three or four days the two unfortunates were worked +unceasingly. Mr. Thomson complained bitterly, but the cook wore a sphinx-like +smile and tried to comfort him. +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t be for long, Harry,” he said, consolingly. +</p> + +<p> +The solicitor sniffed. “I could write tract after tract on temperance,” he +said, bitterly. “I wonder what our poor wives are thinking? I expect they have +put us down as dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Crying their eyes out,” said the doctor, wistfully; “but they’ll dry them +precious quick when we get back, and ask all sorts of questions. What are you +going to say, Harry?” +</p> + +<p> +“The truth,” said the solicitor, virtuously. +</p> + +<p> +“So am I,” said his friend; “but mind, we must both tell the same tale, +whatever it is. Halloa! what’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the skipper,” said the boy, who had just run up; “he wants to see you at +once. He’s dying.” +</p> + +<p> +He caught hold of the doctor by the sleeve; but Carson, in his most +professional manner, declined to be hurried. He went leisurely down the +companion-ladder, and met with a careless glance the concerned faces of the +mate and second officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Come to the skipper at once,” said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Does he want to see me?” said the doctor, languidly, as he entered the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +The skipper was lying doubled up in his bunk, his face twisted with pain. +“Doctor,” he panted, “give me something quick. There’s the medicine-chest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want some food, sir?” inquired the other, respectfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Food be damned!” said the sufferer. “I want physic. There’s the +medicine-chest.” The doctor took it up and held it out to him. “I don’t want +the lot,” moaned the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to give me something for red-hot corkscrews in the inside.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said the doctor, humbly; “I’m only the cook.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you—don’t—prescribe for me at once,” said the skipper, “I’ll put you in +irons.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook his head. “I shipped as cook,” he said, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me something, for Heaven’s sake!” said the skipper, humbly. “I’m dying.” +The doctor pondered. +</p> + +<p> +“If you dinna treat him at once, I’ll break your skull,” said the mate, +persuasively. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor regarded him scornfully, and turned to the writhing skipper. +</p> + +<p> +“My fee is half a guinea a visit,” he said, softly; “five shillings if you come +to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have half a guinea’s worth,” said the agonized skipper. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor took his wrist, and calmly drew the second officer’s watch from its +owner’s pocket. Then he inspected the sick man’s tongue, and shaking his head, +selected a powder from the chest. +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t mind its being nasty,” he said. “Where’s a spoon?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked round for one, but the skipper took the powder from his hand, and +licked it from the paper as though it had been sherbet. +</p> + +<p> +“For mercy’s sake don’t say it’s cholera,” he gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t say anything,” said the doctor. “Where did you say the money was?” +</p> + +<p> +The skipper pointed to his trousers, and Mr. Mackenzie, his national spirit +rising in hot rage, took out the agreed amount and handed it to the physician. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I in danger?” said the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s always danger,” said the doctor, in his best bedside manner. “Have you +made your will?” +</p> + +<p> +The other, turning pale, shook his head. “Perhaps you’d like to see a +solicitor?” said Carson, in winning tones. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not bad enough for that,” said the skipper, stoutly. +</p> + +<p> +“You must stay here and nurse the skipper, Mr. Mackenzie,” said Carson, turning +to the mate; “and be good enough not to make that snuffling noise; it’s +worrying to an invalid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Snuffling noise?” repeated the horror-struck mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; you’ve got an unpleasant habit of snuffling,” said the doctor; “it +sometimes. I worries me meant to speak to you about it before. You mustn’t do +it here. If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck.” +</p> + +<p> +The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper. “Don’t make +that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie,” he said, severely. +</p> + +<p> +Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the sufferer’s +bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend. Mr. Thomson was at first +incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at the sight of the +half-sovereign. +</p> + +<p> +“Better hide it,” he said, apprehensively; “the skipper’ll have it back when he +gets well; it’s the only coin we’ve got.” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t get well,” said Dr. Carson, easily; “not till we get to Hong-kong, +that is.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter with him?” whispered the solicitor. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head. “It may be +the cooking,” he said, slowly. “I’m not a good cook, I admit. It might be +something got into the food from the medicine-chest. I shouldn’t be at all +surprised if the mates are taken bad too.” +</p> + +<p> +And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley again, +bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in his bunk, +punching the air with his fists and rending it with his language. The second +officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, and glancing forward, called +out loudly for the cook. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re wanted, Frank,” said the solicitor. +</p> + +<p> +“When he calls me doctor, I’ll go,” said the other, stiffly. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Cook!</i>” bawled the second officer. “<i>Cook!</i> C<small>OOK</small>!” +</p> + +<p> +He came running forward, his face red and angry, and his fist doubled. “Didn’t +you hear me calling you?” he demanded, fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been promoted,” said Carson, sweetly. “I’m ship’s surgeon now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come down below at once, or I’ll take you there by the scruff of your neck,” +vociferated the other. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not big enough, little man,” said the doctor, still smiling. “Well, +well, lead the way, and we’ll see what we can do.” +</p> + +<p> +He followed the speechless second officer below, and found the boy’s +description of the first officer’s state as moonlight unto sunlight, as water +unto wine. Even the second officer was appalled at the spectacle, and ventured +a protest. +</p> + +<p> +“Gie me something at once,” yelled Mr. Mackenzie. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wish me to undertake your case?” inquired the doctor, suavely. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Mackenzie said that he did, in seven long, abusive, and wicked sentences. +</p> + +<p> +“My fee is half a guinea,” said the doctor, softly, “poor people who cannot +afford more, mates and the like, I sometimes treat for less.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll die first,” howled the mate; “you won’t get any money out of me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the doctor, and rose to depart. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring him back, Rogers,” yelled the mate; “don’t let him go.” +</p> + +<p> +But the second officer, with a strange awesome look in his eyes, was leaning +back in his seat, tightly gripping the edge of the table in both hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come,” said the doctor, cheerily—“what’s this? You mustn’t be ill, +Rogers. I want you to nurse these other two.” +</p> + +<p> +The other rose slowly to his feet and eyed him with lack-lustre eyes. “Tell the +third officer to take charge,” he said, slowly; “and if he’s to be nurse as +well, he’s got his hands full.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor sent the boy to apprise the third officer of his responsibilities, +and then stood watching the extraordinary and snakelike convolutions of Mr. +Mackenzie. +</p> + +<p> +“How much—did—ye say?” hissed the latter. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor people,” repeated the doctor, with relish, “five shillings a visit; very +poor people, half a crown.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have half a crown’s worth,” moaned the miserable mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Mackenzie,” said a faint voice from the skipper’s cabin. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir?” yelled the mate, who was in torment. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t answer me like that, sir,” said the skipper, sharply. “Will you please +to remember that I’m ill, and can’t bear that horrible noise you’re making?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m—ill—too,” gasped the mate. +</p> + +<p> +“Ill? Nonsense!” said the skipper, severely. “We can’t both be ill. How about +the ship?” +</p> + +<p> +There was no reply, but from another cabin the voice of Mr. Rogers was heard +calling wildly for medical aid, and offering impossible sums in exchange for +it. The doctor went from cabin to cabin, and, first collecting his fees, +administered sundry potions to the sufferers; and then, in his capacity of +cook, went forward and made an unsavory mess he called gruel, which he insisted +upon their eating. +</p> + +<p> +Thanks to his skill, the invalids were freed from the more violent of their +pains, but this freedom was followed by a weakness so alarming that they could +hardly raise their heads from their pillows—a state of things which excited the +intense envy of the third officer, who, owing to his responsibilities, might +just as well have been without one. +</p> + +<p> +In this state of weakness, and with the fear of impending dissolution before +his eyes, the skipper sent for Mr. Harry Thomson, and after some comparisons +between lawyers and sharks, in which stress was laid upon certain redeeming +features of the latter, paid a guinea and made his will. His example, save in +the amount of the fee, was followed by the mate; but Mr. Rogers, being +approached tentatively by the doctor in his friend’s behalf, shook his head and +thanked his stars he had nothing to leave. He had enjoyed his money, he said. +</p> + +<p> +They mended slowly as they approached Hong-kong, though a fit of temper on Mr. +Mackenzie’s part, during which he threw out ominous hints about having his +money back, led to a regrettable relapse in his case. He was still in bed when +they came to anchor in the harbour; but the skipper and his second officer were +able to go above and exchange congratulations from adjoining deck-chairs. +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure it wasn’t cholera?” asked the harbour-master’s deputy, who had +boarded them in his launch, after he had heard the story. +</p> + +<p> +“Positive,” said Carson. +</p> + +<p> +“Very fortunate thing they had you on board,” said the deputy—“very fortunate.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor bowed. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems so odd, the three of them being down with it,” said the other; “looks as +though it’s infectious, doesn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think so,” said the doctor, accepting with alacrity an offer to go +ashore in the launch and change into some decent clothes. “I think I know what +it was.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus09"></a> +<img src="images/009.jpg" width="440" height="467" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">The second officer leaned forward.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The captain of the <i>Stella</i> pricked up his ears, and the second officer +leaned forward with parted lips. Carson, accompanied by the deputy and the +solicitor, walked toward the launch. +</p> + +<p> +“What was it?” cried the skipper, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“I think that you ate something that disagreed with you,” replied the doctor, +grinning meaningly. “Good-by, captain.” +</p> + +<p> +The master of the <i>Stella</i> made no reply, but rising feebly, tottered to +the side, and shook his fist at the launch as it headed for the shore. Doctor +Carson, who had had a pious upbringing, kissed his hand in return. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>A GOLDEN VENTURE</h2> + +<p> +The elders of the Tidger family sat at breakfast—Mrs. Tidger with knees wide +apart and the youngest Tidger nestling in the valley of print-dress which lay +between, and Mr. Tidger bearing on one moleskin knee a small copy of himself in +a red flannel frock and a slipper. The larger Tidger children took the solids +of their breakfast up and down the stone-flagged court outside, coming in +occasionally to gulp draughts of very weak tea from a gallipot or two which +stood on the table, and to wheedle Mr. Tidger out of any small piece of bloater +which he felt generous enough to bestow. +</p> + +<p> +“Peg away, Ann,” said Mr. Tidger, heartily. +</p> + +<p> +His wife’s elder sister shook her head, and passing the remains of her slice to +one of her small nephews, leaned back in her chair. “No appetite, Tidger,” she +said, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“You should go in for carpentering,” said Mr. Tidger, in justification of the +huge crust he was carving into mouthfuls with his pocket-knife. “Seems to me I +can’t eat enough sometimes. Hullo, who’s the letter for?” +</p> + +<p> +He took it from the postman, who stood at the door amid a bevy of Tidgers who +had followed him up the court, and slowly read the address. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Mrs. Ann Pullen,’” he said, handing it over to his sister-in-law; “nice +writing, too.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Pullen broke the envelope, and after a somewhat lengthy search for her +pocket, fumbled therein for her spectacles. She then searched the mantelpiece, +the chest of drawers, and the dresser, and finally ran them to earth on the +copper. +</p> + +<p> +She was not a good scholar, and it took her some time to read the letter, a +proceeding which she punctuated with such “Ohs” and “Ahs” and gaspings and “God +bless my souls” as nearly drove the carpenter and his wife, who were leaning +forward impatiently, to the verge of desperation. +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s it from?” asked Mr. Tidger for the third time. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Pullen. “Good gracious, who ever would ha’ thought +it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thought what, Ann?” demanded the carpenter, feverishly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t people write their names plain?” demanded his sister-in-law, +impatiently. “It’s got a printed name up in the corner; perhaps that’s it. +Well, I never did—I don’t know whether I’m standing on my head or my heels.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sitting down, that’s what you’re a-doing,” said the carpenter, +regarding her somewhat unfavourably. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it’s a take-in,” said Mrs. Pullen, her lips trembling. “I’ve heard o’ +such things. If it is, I shall never get over it—never.” +</p> + +<p> +“Get—over—what?” asked the carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +“It don’t look like a take-in,” soliloquized Mrs. Pullen, “and I shouldn’t +think anybody’d go to all that trouble and spend a penny to take in a poor +thing like me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Tidger, throwing politeness to the winds, leaped forward, and snatching the +letter from her, read it with feverish haste, tempered by a defective +education. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a take-in, Ann,” he said, his voice trembling; “it must be.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is?” asked Mrs. Tidger, impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like it,” said Mrs. Pullen, feebly. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” screamed Mrs. Tidger, wrought beyond all endurance. +</p> + +<p> +Her husband turned and regarded her with much severity, but Mrs. Tidger’s gaze +was the stronger, and after a vain attempt to meet it, he handed her the +letter. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Tidger read it through hastily, and then snatching the baby from her lap, +held it out with both arms to her husband, and jumping up, kissed her sister +heartily, patting her on the back in her excitement until she coughed with the +pain of it. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think it’s a take-in, Polly?” she inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Take-in?” said her sister; “of course it ain’t. Lawyers don’t play jokes; +their time’s too valuable. No, you’re an heiress all right, Ann, and I wish you +joy. I couldn’t be more pleased if it was myself.” +</p> + +<p> +She kissed her again, and going to pat her back once more, discovered that she +had sunk down sufficiently low in her chair to obtain the protection of its +back. +</p> + +<p> +“Two thousand pounds,” said Mrs. Pullen, in an awestruck voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Ten hundered pounds twice over,” said the carpenter, mouthing it slowly; +“twenty hundered pounds.” +</p> + +<p> +He got up from the table, and instinctively realizing that he could not do full +justice to his feelings with the baby in his arms, laid it on the teatray in a +puddle of cold tea and stood looking hard at the heiress. +</p> + +<p> +“I was housekeeper to her eleven years ago,” said Mrs. Pullen. “I wonder what +she left it to me for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t know what to do with it, I should think,” said the carpenter, still +staring openmouthed. +</p> + +<p> +“Tidger, I’m ashamed of you,” said his wife, snatching her infant to her bosom. +“I expect you was very good to her, Ann.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never ’ad no luck,” said the impenitent carpenter. “Nobody ever left me no +money. Nobody ever left me so much as a fi-pun note.” +</p> + +<p> +He stared round disdainfully at his poor belongings, and drawing on his coat, +took his bag from a corner, and hoisting it on his shoulder, started to his +work. He scattered the news as he went, and it ran up and down the little main +street of Thatcham, and thence to the outlying lanes and cottages. Within a +couple of hours it was common property, and the fortunate legatee was presented +with a congratulatory address every time she ventured near the door. +</p> + +<p> +It is an old adage that money makes friends; the carpenter was surprised to +find that the mere fact of his having a moneyed relation had the same effect, +and that men to whom he had hitherto shown a certain amount of respect due to +their position now sought his company. They stood him beer at the “Bell,” and +walked by his side through the street. When they took to dropping in of an +evening to smoke a pipe the carpenter was radiant with happiness. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger,” said the wife of +his bosom after they had retired one evening. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m?” said the startled carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?” demanded his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Smoke his pipe,” replied her husband, confidently. +</p> + +<p> +“And old Wiggett?” persisted Mrs. Tidger. +</p> + +<p> +“Smoke <i>his</i> pipe,” was the reply. “Why, what’s the matter, Polly?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Tidger sniffed derisively. “You men are all alike,” she snapped. “What do +you think Ann wears that pink bodice for?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never noticed she ’ad a pink bodice, Polly,” said the carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +“No? That’s what I say. You men never notice anything,” said his wife. “If you +don’t send them two old fools off, I will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you like ’em to see Ann wearing pink?” inquired the mystified Tidger. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Tidger bit her lip and shook her head at him scornfully. “In plain +English, Tidger, as plain as I can speak it,”—she said, severely, “they’re +after Ann and ’er bit o’ money.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Tidger gazed at her open-mouthed, and taking advantage of that fact, blew +out the candle to hide his discomposure. “What!” he said, blankly, “at ’er time +o’ life?” +</p> + +<p> +“Watch ’em to-morrer,” said his wife. +</p> + +<p> +The carpenter acted upon his instructions, and his ire rose as he noticed the +assiduous attention paid by his two friends to the frivolous Mrs. Pullen. Mr. +Wiggett, a sharp-featured little man, was doing most of the talking, while his +rival, a stout, clean-shaven man with a slow, oxlike eye, looked on stolidly. +Mr. Miller was seldom in a hurry, and lost many a bargain through his +slowness—a fact which sometimes so painfully affected the individual who had +outdistanced him that he would offer to let him have it at a still lower +figure. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus10"></a> +<img src="images/010.jpg" width="508" height="513" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen.”</p> +</div> + +<p> +“You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen,” said Wiggett, the conversation having +turned upon ages. +</p> + +<p> +“Young ain’t the word for it,” said Miller, with a praiseworthy determination +not to be left behind. +</p> + +<p> +“No; it’s age as you’re thinking of, Mr. Wiggett,” said the carpenter, slowly; +“none of us gets younger, do we, Ann?” +</p> + +<p> +“Some of us keeps young in our ways,” said Mrs. Pullen, somewhat shortly. +</p> + +<p> +“How old should you say Ann is now?” persisted the watchful Tidger. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Wiggett shook his head. “I should say she’s about fifteen years younger nor +me,” he said, slowly, “and I’m as lively as a cricket.” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s fifty-five,” said the carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +“That makes you seventy, Wiggett,” said Mr. Miller, pointedly. “I thought you +was more than that. You look it.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Wiggett coughed sourly. “I’m fifty-nine,” he growled. “Nothing’ll make me +believe as Mrs. Pullen’s fifty-five, nor anywhere near it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ho!” said the carpenter, on his mettle—“ho! Why, my wife here was the sixth +child, and she—- He caught a gleam in the sixth child’s eye, and expressed her +age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had finished, and Mr. +Tidger, noticing this, coughed again. +</p> + +<p> +“And she—” prompted Mr. Miller, displaying a polite interest. +</p> + +<p> +“She ain’t so young as she was,” said the carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +“Cares of a family,” said Mr. Wiggett, plumping boldly. “I always thought Mrs. +Pullen was younger than her.” +</p> + +<p> +“So did I,” said Mr. Miller, “much younger.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Wiggett eyed him sharply. It was rather hard to have Miller hiding his lack +of invention by participating in his compliments and even improving upon them. +It was the way he dealt at market-listening to other dealers’ accounts of their +wares, and adding to them for his own. +</p> + +<p> +“I was noticing you the other day, ma’am,” continued Mr. Wiggett. “I see you +going up the road with a step free and easy as a young girl’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“She allus walks like that,” said Mr. Miller, in a tone of surprised reproof. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s in the family,” said the carpenter, who had been uneasily watching his +wife’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“Both of you seem to notice a lot,” said Mrs. Tidger; “much more than you used +to.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Tidger, who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed again. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to take something for that cough,” said Mr. Wiggett, considerately. +</p> + +<p> +“Gin and beer,” said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist. +</p> + +<p> +“Bed’s the best thing for it,” said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was beginning to +show signs of getting out of hand. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got up, and +pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and looked at Mr. Miller. +That gentleman, who was apparently deep in some knotty problem, was gazing at +the floor, and oblivious for the time to his surroundings. +</p> + +<p> +“Come along,” said Wiggett, with feigned heartiness, slapping him on the back. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller, looking for a moment as though he would like to return the +compliment, came back to everyday life, and bidding the company good-night, +stepped to the door, accompanied by his rival. It was immediately shut with +some violence. +</p> + +<p> +“They seem in a hurry,” said Wiggett. “I don’t think I shall go there again.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I shall,” said Mr. Miller. +</p> + +<p> +After this neither of them was surprised to meet there again the next night, +and indeed for several nights. The carpenter and his wife, who did not want the +money to go out of the family, and were also afraid of offending Mrs. Pullen, +were at their wits’ end what to do. Ultimately it was resolved that Tidger, in +as delicate a manner as possible, was to hint to her that they were after her +money. He was so vague and so delicate that Mrs. Pullen misunderstood him, and +fancying that he was trying to borrow half a crown, made him a present of five +shillings. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident to the slower-going Mr. Miller that his rival’s tongue was +giving him an advantage which only the ever-watchful presence of the carpenter +and his wife prevented him from pushing to the fullest advantage. In these +circumstances he sat for two hours after breakfast one morning in deep +cogitation, and after six pipes got up with a twinkle in his slow eyes which +his brother dealers had got to regard as a danger signal. +</p> + +<p> +He had only the glimmering of an idea at first, but after a couple of pints at +the “Bell” everything took shape, and he cast his eyes about for an assistant. +They fell upon a man named Smith, and the dealer, after some thought, took up +his glass and went over to him. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to do something for me,” he remarked, in a mysterious voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, I’ve been wanting to see you,” said Smith, who was also a dealer in a +small way. “One o’ them hins I bought off you last week is dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give you another for it,” said Miller. +</p> + +<p> +“And the others are so forgetful,” continued Mr. Smith. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgetful?” repeated the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Forget to lay, like,” said Mr. Smith, musingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind about them,” said Mr. Miller, with some animation. “I want you to +do something for me. If it comes off all right, I’ll give you a dozen hins and +a couple of decentish-sized pigs.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Smith called a halt. “Decentish-sized” was vague. +</p> + +<p> +“Take your pick,” said Mr. Miller. “You know Mrs. Pullen’s got two thousand +pounds—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wiggett’s going to have it,” said the other; “he as good as told me so.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s after her money,” said the other, sadly. “Look ’ere, Smith, I want you to +tell him she’s lost it all. Say that Tidger told you, but you wasn’t to tell +anybody else. Wiggett’ll believe you.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Smith turned upon him a face all wrinkles, lit by one eye. “I want the hins +and the pigs first,” he said, firmly. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller, shocked at his grasping spirit, stared at him mournfully. +</p> + +<p> +“And twenty pounds the day you marry Mrs. Pullen,” continued Mr. Smith. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller, leading him up and down the sawdust floor, besought him to listen +to reason, and Mr. Smith allowed the better feelings of our common human nature +to prevail to the extent of reducing his demands to half a dozen fowls on +account, and all the rest on the day of the marriage. Then, with the delightful +feeling that he wouldn’t do any work for a week, he went out to drop poison +into the ears of Mr. Wiggett. +</p> + +<p> +“Lost all her money!” said the startled Mr. Wiggett. “How?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know how,” said his friend. “Tidger told me, but made me promise not +to tell a soul. But I couldn’t help telling you, Wiggett, ’cause I know what +you’re after.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do me a favour,” said the little man. +</p> + +<p> +“I will,” said the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep it from Miller as long as possible. If you hear any one else talking of +it, tell ’em to keep it from him. If he marries her I’ll give you a couple of +pints.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Smith promised faithfully, and both the Tidgers and Mrs. Pullen were +surprised to find that Mr. Miller was the only visitor that evening. He spoke +but little, and that little in a slow, ponderous voice intended for Mrs. +Pullen’s ear alone. He spoke disparagingly of money, and shook his head slowly +at the temptations it brought in its train. Give him a crust, he said, and +somebody to halve it with—a home-made crust baked by a wife. It was a pretty +picture, but somewhat spoiled by Mrs. Tidger suggesting that, though he had +spoken of halving the crust, he had said nothing about the beer. +</p> + +<p> +“Half of my beer wouldn’t be much,” said the dealer, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Not the half you would give your wife wouldn’t,” retorted Mrs. Tidger. +</p> + +<p> +The dealer sighed and looked mournfully at Mrs. Pullen. The lady sighed in +return, and finding that her admirer’s stock of conversation seemed to be +exhausted, coyly suggested a game of draughts. The dealer assented with +eagerness, and declining the offer of a glass of beer by explaining that he had +had one the day before yesterday, sat down and lost seven games right off. He +gave up at the seventh game, and pushing back his chair, said that he thought +Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful draught-player he had ever seen, and took no +notice when Mrs. Tidger, in a dry voice charged with subtle meaning, said that +she thought he was. +</p> + +<p> +“Draughts come natural to some people,” said Mrs. Pullen, modestly. “It’s as +easy as kissing your fingers.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller looked doubtful; then he put his great fingers to his lips by way of +experiment, and let them fall unmistakably in the widow’s direction. Mrs. +Pullen looked down and nearly blushed. The carpenter and his wife eyed each +other in indignant consternation. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s easy enough,” said the dealer, and repeated the offense. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Pullen got up in some confusion, and began to put the draught-board away. +One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they both stooped to recover it +their heads bumped. It was nothing to the dealer’s, but Mrs. Pullen rubbed hers +and sat down with her eyes watering. Mr. Miller took out his handkerchief, and +going to the scullery, dipped it into water and held it to her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it better?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“A little better,” said the victim, with a shiver. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller, in his emotion, was squeezing the handkerchief hard, and a cold +stream was running down her neck. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you. It’s all right now.” +</p> + +<p> +The dealer replaced the handkerchief, and sat for some time regarding her +earnestly. Then the carpenter and his wife displaying manifest signs of +impatience, he took his departure, after first inviting himself for another +game of draughts the following night. +</p> + +<p> +He walked home with the air of a conqueror, and thought exultingly that the two +thousand pounds were his. It was a deal after his own heart, and not the least +satisfactory part about it was the way he had got the better of Wiggett. +</p> + +<p> +He completed his scheme the following day after a short interview with the +useful Smith. By the afternoon Wiggett found that his exclusive information was +common property, and all Thatcham was marvelling at the fortitude with which +Mrs. Pullen was bearing the loss of her fortune. With a view of being out of +the way when the denial was published, Mr. Miller, after loudly expressing in +public his sympathy for Mrs. Pullen and his admiration of her qualities, drove +over with some pigs to a neighbouring village, returning to Thatcham in the +early evening. Then hurriedly putting his horse up he made his way to the +carpenter’s. +</p> + +<p> +The Tidgers were at home when he entered, and Mrs. Pullen flushed faintly as he +shook hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I was coming in before,” he said, impressively, “after what I heard this +afternoon, but I had to drive over to Thorpe.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ’eard it?” inquired the carpenter, in an incredulous voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said the dealer, “and very sorry I was. Sorry for one thing, but +glad for another.” +</p> + +<p> +The carpenter opened his mouth and seemed about to speak. Then he checked +himself suddenly and gazed with interest at the ingenuous dealer. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad,” said Mr. Miller, slowly, as he nodded at a friend of Mrs. Tidger’s +who had just come in with a long face, “because now that Mrs. Pullen is poor, I +can say to her what I couldn’t say while she was rich.” +</p> + +<p> +Again the astonished carpenter was about to speak, but the dealer hastily +checked him with his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“One at a time,” he said. “Mrs. Pullen, I was very sorry to hear this +afternoon, for your sake, that you had lost all your money. What I wanted to +say to you now, now that you are poor, was to ask you to be Mrs. Miller. What +d’ye say?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Pullen, touched at so much goodness, wept softly and said, “Yes.” The +triumphant Miller took out his handkerchief—the same that he had used the +previous night, for he was not an extravagant man—and tenderly wiped her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m blowed!” said the staring carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got a nice little ’ouse,” continued the wily Mr. Miller. “It’s a poor +place, but nice, and we’ll play draughts every evening. When shall it be?” +</p> + +<p> +“When you like,” said Mrs. Pullen, in a faint voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll put the banns up to-morrow,” said the dealer. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Tidger’s lady friend giggled at so much haste, but Mrs. Tidger, who felt +that she had misjudged him, was touched. +</p> + +<p> +“It does you credit, Mr. Miller,” she said, warmly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” said the dealer; and then Mr. Tidger got up, and crossing the room, +solemnly shook hands with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Money or no money, she’ll make a good wife,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad you’re pleased,” said the dealer, wondering at this cordiality. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t deny I thought you was after her money,” continued the carpenter, +solemnly. “My missus thought so, too.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller shook his head, and said he thought they would have known him +better. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is a great loss,” said the carpenter. “Money is money.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all it is, though,” said the slightly mystified Mr. Miller. +</p> + +<p> +“What I can’t understand is,” continued the carpenter, “’ow the news got about. +Why, the neighbours knew of it a couple of hours before we did.” +</p> + +<p> +The dealer hid a grin. Then he looked a bit bewildered again. +</p> + +<p> +“I assure you,” said the carpenter, “it was known in the town at least a couple +of hours before we got the letter.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller waited a minute to get perfect control over his features. “Letter?” +he repeated, faintly. +</p> + +<p> +“The letter from the lawyers,” said the carpenter. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller was silent again. His features were getting tiresome. He eyed the +door furtively. +</p> + +<p> +“What-was-in-the letter?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Short and sweet,” said the carpenter, with bitterness. “Said it was all a +mistake, because they’d been and found another will. People shouldn’t make such +mistakes.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re all liable to make mistakes,” said Miller, thinking he saw an opening. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we made a mistake when we thought you was after Ann’s money,” assented +the carpenter. “I’m sure I thought you’d be the last man in the world to be +pleased to hear that she’d lost it. One thing is, you’ve got enough for both.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Miller made no reply, but in a dazed way strove to realize the full measure +of the misfortune which had befallen him. The neighbour, with the anxiety of +her sex to be the first with a bit of news, had already taken her departure. He +thought of Wiggett walking the earth a free man, and of Smith with a +three-months’ bill for twenty pounds. His pride as a dealer was shattered +beyond repair, and emerging from a species of mist, he became conscious that +the carpenter was addressing him. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus11"></a> +<img src="images/011.jpg" width="411" height="650" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“We’ll leave you two young things alone.”</p> +</div> + +<p> +“We’ll leave you two young things alone for a bit,” said Mr. Tidger, heartily. +“We’re going out. When you’re tired o’ courting you can play draughts, and Ann +will show you one or two of ’er moves. So long.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>THREE AT TABLE</h2> + +<p> +The talk in the coffee-room had been of ghosts and apparitions, and nearly +everybody present had contributed his mite to the stock of information upon a +hazy and somewhat thread-bare subject. Opinions ranged from rank incredulity to +childlike faith, one believer going so far as to denounce unbelief as impious, +with a reference to the Witch of Endor, which was somewhat marred by being +complicated in an inexplicable fashion with the story of Jonah. +</p> + +<p> +“Talking of Jonah,” he said solemnly, with a happy disregard of the fact that +he had declined to answer several eager questions put to him on the subject, +“look at the strange tales sailors tell us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t advise you to believe all those,” said a bluff, clean-shaven man, +who had been listening without speaking much. “You see when a sailor gets +ashore he’s expected to have something to tell, and his friends would be rather +disappointed if he had not.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a well-known fact,” interrupted the first speaker firmly, “that sailors +are very prone to see visions.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are,” said the other dryly, “they generally see them in pairs, and the +shock to the nervous system frequently causes headache next morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“You never saw anything yourself?” suggested an unbeliever. +</p> + +<p> +“Man and boy,” said the other, “I’ve been at sea thirty years, and the only +unpleasant incident of that kind occurred in a quiet English countryside.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that?” said another man. +</p> + +<p> +“I was a young man at the time,” said the narrator, drawing at his pipe and +glancing good-humouredly at the company. “I had just come back from China, and +my own people being away I went down into the country to invite myself to stay +with an uncle. When I got down to the place I found it closed and the family in +the South of France; but as they were due back in a couple of days I decided to +put up at the Royal George, a very decent inn, and await their return. +</p> + +<p> +“The first day I passed well enough; but in the evening the dulness of the +rambling old place, in which I was the only visitor, began to weigh upon my +spirits, and the next morning after a late breakfast I set out with the +intention of having a brisk day’s walk. +</p> + +<p> +“I started off in excellent spirits, for the day was bright and frosty, with a +powdering of snow on the iron-bound roads and nipped hedges, and the country +had to me all the charm of novelty. It was certainly flat, but there was plenty +of timber, and the villages through which I passed were old and picturesque. +</p> + +<p> +“I lunched luxuriously on bread and cheese and beer in the bar of a small inn, +and resolved to go a little further before turning back. When at length I found +I had gone far enough, I turned up a lane at right angles to the road I was +passing, and resolved to find my way back by another route. It is a long lane +that has no turning, but this had several, each of which had turnings of its +own, which generally led, as I found by trying two or three of them, into the +open marshes. Then, tired of lanes, I resolved to rely upon the small compass +which hung from my watch chain and go across country home. +</p> + +<p> +“I had got well into the marshes when a white fog, which had been for some time +hovering round the edge of the ditches, began gradually to spread. There was no +escaping it, but by aid of my compass I was saved from making a circular tour +and fell instead into frozen ditches or stumbled over roots in the grass. I +kept my course, however, until at four o’clock, when night was coming rapidly +up to lend a hand to the fog, I was fain to confess myself lost. +</p> + +<p> +“The compass was now no good to me, and I wandered about miserably, +occasionally giving a shout on the chance of being heard by some passing +shepherd or farmhand. At length by great good luck I found my feet on a rough +road driven through the marshes, and by walking slowly and tapping with my +stick managed to keep to it. I had followed it for some distance when I heard +footsteps approaching me. +</p> + +<p> +“We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking countryman, +hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a mile, and putting me on +to a road gave me minute instructions how to reach a village some three miles +distant. +</p> + +<p> +“I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a little +way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window. I pointed it out, but my +companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“‘You won’t get no good there,’ he said, hastily. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Why not?’ I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“‘There’s a something there, sir,’ he replied, ‘what ’tis I dunno, but the +little ’un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts see it, and +it was never much good afterward. Some say as it’s a poor mad thing, others +says as it’s a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it ain’t good to see.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Well, I’ll keep on, then,’ I said. ‘Goodnight.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the distance, +and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided into three, any one +of which to a stranger might be said to lead straight on. I was now cold and +tired, and having half made up my mind walked slowly back toward the house. +</p> + +<p> +“At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the window. I +made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found myself walking into a +tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came to a small gate, and opening +it cautiously, walked, not without some little nervousness, up a long path +which led to the door. There was no light and no sound from within. Half +repenting of my temerity I shortened my stick and knocked lightly upon the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was still +beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old woman, holding a +candle, confronted me. +</p> + +<p> +“‘What do you want?’ she demanded gruffly. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I’ve lost my way,’ I said, civilly; ‘I want to get to Ashville.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Don’t know it,’ said the old woman. +</p> + +<p> +“She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the side of +the hall and came toward us. An old man of great height and breadth of +shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Ashville is fifteen miles distant,’ he said slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“‘If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,’ I +remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the woman. She +made a gesture of dissent. +</p> + +<p> +“‘The nearest place is three miles off,’ he said, turning to me and apparently +trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; ‘if you will give me the pleasure of +your company, I will make you as comfortable as I can.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I hesitated. They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy hall +with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting than the +darkness outside. +</p> + +<p> +“‘You are very kind,’ I murmured, irresolutely, ‘but—’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Come in,’ he said quickly; ‘shut the door, Anne.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman, muttering to +herself, had closed the door behind me. With a queer sensation of being trapped +I followed my host into the room, and taking the proffered chair warmed my +frozen fingers at the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Dinner will soon be ready,’ said the old man, regarding me closely. ‘If you +will excuse me.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I bowed and he left the room. A minute afterward I heard voices; his and the +old woman’s, and, I fancied, a third. Before I had finished my inspection of +the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange look I had noticed +before. +</p> + +<p> +“‘There will be three of us at dinner,’ he said, at length. ‘We two and my +son.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn’t run in the family. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I suppose you don’t mind dining in the dark,’ he said, abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Not at all,’ I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, ‘but really +I’m afraid I’m intruding. If you’ll allow me—’ +</p> + +<p> +“He waved his huge gaunt hands. ‘We’re not going to lose you now we’ve got +you,’ he said, with a dry laugh. ‘It’s seldom we have company, and now we’ve +got you we’ll keep you. My son’s eyes are bad, and he can’t stand the light. +Ah, here is Anne.’ +</p> + +<p> +“As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to lay the +cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the hearth, sat looking +silently into the fire. The table set, the old woman brought in a pair of fowls +ready carved in a dish, and placing three chairs, left the room. The old man +hesitated a moment, and then, rising from his chair, placed a large screen in +front of the fire and slowly extinguished the candles. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Blind man’s holiday,’ he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his way to +the door opened it. Somebody came back into the room with him, and in a slow, +uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the strangest voice I have ever +heard broke a silence which was fast becoming oppressive. +</p> + +<p> +“‘A cold night,’ it said slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an appetite +which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the day. It was +somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident from the behaviour of +my invisible companions that they were as unused to dining under such +circumstances as I was. We ate in silence until the old woman blundered into +the room with some sweets and put them with a crash upon the table. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Are you a stranger about here?’ inquired the curious voice again. +</p> + +<p> +“I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in +stumbling upon such a good dinner. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Stumbling is a very good word for it,’ said the voice grimly. ‘You have +forgotten the port, father.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘So I have,’ said the old man, rising. ‘It’s a bottle of the “Celebrated” +to-day; I will get it myself.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone with my +unseen neighbour. There was something so strange about the whole business that +I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness. +</p> + +<p> +“My host seemed to be absent a long time. I heard the man opposite lay down his +fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes shining +through the gloom like a cat’s. +</p> + +<p> +“With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back. It caught the +hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over with a +crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of the creature +opposite. With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair and stood with +clenched fists beside it. Man or beast, which was it? The flame leaped up and +then went out, and in the mere red glow of the fire it looked more devilish +than before. +</p> + +<p> +“For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door opened and +the old man returned. He stood aghast as he saw the warm firelight, and then +approaching the table mechanically put down a couple of bottles. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I beg your pardon,’ said I, reassured by his presence, ‘but I have +accidentally overturned the screen. Allow me to replace it.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘No,’ said the old man, gently, ‘let it be. +</p> + +<p> +“‘We have had enough of the dark. I’ll give you a light.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He struck a match and slowly lit the candles. Then—I saw that the man opposite +had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which one unquenched +eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered. I was greatly moved, some +suspicion of the truth occurring to me. +</p> + +<p> +“‘My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,’ said the old man. +‘Since then we have lived a very retired life. When you came to the door we—’ +his voice trembled, ‘that is-my son—’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘I thought,” said the son simply, ‘that it would be better for me not to come +to the dinner-table. But it happens to be my birthday, and my father would not +hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish plan of dining in the +dark. I’m sorry I startled you.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘I am sorry,’ said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his hand, +‘that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you startled me.’ +</p> + +<p> +“From a faint tinge in the old man’s cheek and a certain pleasant softening of +the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly congratulated myself upon this +last remark. +</p> + +<p> +“‘We never see a friend,’ said the old man, apologetically, ‘and the temptation +to have company was too much for us. Besides, I don’t know what else you could +have done.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Nothing else half so good, I’m sure,’ said I. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Come,’ said my host, with almost a sprightly air. ‘Now we know each other, +draw our chairs to the fire and let’s keep this birthday in a proper fashion.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box of +cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to sit down +and drink. If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for vivacity, and we +were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen. The night wore on so rapidly +that we could hardly believe our ears when in a lull in the conversation a +clock in the hall struck twelve. +</p> + +<p> +“‘A last toast before we retire,’ said my host, pitching the end of his cigar +into the fire and turning to the small table. +</p> + +<p> +“We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive in the +old man’s manner as he rose and took up his glass. His tall figure seemed to +get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at his disfigured son. +</p> + +<p> +“‘The health of the children my boy saved!’ he said, and drained his glass at a +draught.” +</p> + +<p class="center"> + +THE END. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12133 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + diff --git a/12133-h/images/000.jpg b/12133-h/images/000.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed2eb44 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/000.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/001.jpg b/12133-h/images/001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..10bedb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/001.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/002.jpg b/12133-h/images/002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0dd110 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/002.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/003.jpg b/12133-h/images/003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0afdf79 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/003.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/004.jpg b/12133-h/images/004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c6b3e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/004.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/005.jpg b/12133-h/images/005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e50c08d --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/005.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/006.jpg b/12133-h/images/006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2fddb17 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/006.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/007.jpg b/12133-h/images/007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7dcad71 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/007.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/008.jpg b/12133-h/images/008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..99a5558 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/008.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/009.jpg b/12133-h/images/009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce48869 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/009.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/010.jpg b/12133-h/images/010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8042661 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/010.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/011.jpg b/12133-h/images/011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c85302d --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/011.jpg diff --git a/12133-h/images/cover.jpg b/12133-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9d7106 --- /dev/null +++ b/12133-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f07fdaa --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12133 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12133) diff --git a/old/12133-2006-10-30.txt b/old/12133-2006-10-30.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0987047 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12133-2006-10-30.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6460 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lady of the Barge and Others, Entire +Collection, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: Lady of the Barge and Others, Entire Collection + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: October 30, 2006 [EBook #12133] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADY OF THE BARGE AND *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + +THE LADY OF THE BARGE + +AND OTHER STORIES + +By W. W. Jacobs + + + + +CONTENTS + +THE LADY OF THE BARGE +THE MONKEY'S PAW +BILL'S PAPER CHASE +THE WELL +CUPBOARD LOVE +IN THE LIBRARY +CAPTAIN ROGERS +A TIGER'S SKIN +A MIXED PROPOSAL +AN ADULTERATION ACT +A GOLDEN VENTURE +THREE AT TABLE + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +He denied it again, hotly frontispiece +"You villain!" she said, in a choking voice +"What's that?" cried the old woman +Mrs. Driver fell back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish +Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the door +Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast and bowed again +"Don't you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?" she inquired softly +He saw another tatterdemalion coming toward him +"You say you're a doctor?" +The second officer leaned forward +"You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen," +"We'll leave you two young things alone," + + + + + +THE LADY OF THE BARGE + + +The master of the barge Arabella sat in the stern of his craft with his +right arm leaning on the tiller. A desultory conversation with the mate +of a schooner, who was hanging over the side of his craft a few yards +off, had come to a conclusion owing to a difference of opinion on the +subject of religion. The skipper had argued so warmly that he almost +fancied he must have inherited the tenets of the Seventh-day Baptists +from his mother while the mate had surprised himself by the warmth of his +advocacy of a form of Wesleyanism which would have made the members of +that sect open their eyes with horror. He had, moreover, confirmed the +skipper in the error of his ways by calling him a bargee, the ranks of +the Baptists receiving a defender if not a recruit from that hour. + +With the influence of the religious argument still upon him, the skipper, +as the long summer's day gave place to night, fell to wondering where his +own mate, who was also his brother-in-law, had got to. Lights which had +been struggling with the twilight now burnt bright and strong, and the +skipper, moving from the shadow to where a band of light fell across the +deck, took out a worn silver watch and saw that it was ten o'clock. + +Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above and +began to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of twenty-two +sprang nimbly to the deck. + +"Ten o'clock, Ted," said the skipper, slowly. "It 'll be eleven in an +hour's time," said the mate, calmly. + +"That 'll do," said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticed +that his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position, +and a fortuitous expression of his mother's occurred to him: "Don't talk +to me; I've been arguing with a son of Belial for the last half-hour." + +"Bargee," said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice. + +"Don't take no notice of him, Ted," said the skipper, pityingly. + +"He wasn't talking to me," said Ted. "But never mind about him; I want +to speak to you in private." + +"Fire away, my lad," said the other, in a patronizing voice. + +"Speak up," said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. "I'm +listening." + +There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the cabin, +and lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, took a seat +on a locker, and again requested the other to fire away. + +"Well, you see, it's this way," began the mate, with a preliminary +wriggle: "there's a certain young woman--" + +"A certain young what?" shouted the master of the Arabella. + +"Woman," repeated the mate, snappishly; "you've heard of a woman afore, +haven't you? Well, there's a certain young woman I'm walking out +with I--" + +"Walking out?" gasped the skipper. "Why, I never 'eard o' such a +thing." + +"You would ha' done if you'd been better looking, p'raps," retorted the +other. "Well, I've offered this young woman to come for a trip with us." + +"Oh, you have, 'ave you!" said the skipper, sharply. "And what do you +think Louisa will say to it?" + +"That's your look out," said Louisa's brother, cheerfully. "I'll make +her up a bed for'ard, and we'll all be as happy as you please." + +He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a series +of whistles of the most amatory description. + +"There she is," he said. "I told her to wait outside." + +He ran upon deck, and his perturbed brother-in-law, following at his +leisure, was just in time to see him descending the ladder with a young +woman and a small handbag. + +"This is my brother-in-law, Cap'n Gibbs," said Ted, introducing the new +arrival; "smartest man at a barge on the river." + +The girl extended a neatly gloved hand, shook the skipper's affably, and +looked wonderingly about her. + +"It's very close to the water, Ted," she said, dubiously. + +The skipper coughed. "We don't take passengers as a rule," he said, +awkwardly; "we 'ain't got much convenience for them." + +"Never mind," said the girl, kindly; "I sha'nt expect too much." + +She turned away, and following the mate down to the cabin, went into +ecstasies over the space-saving contrivances she found there. The +drawers fitted in the skipper's bunk were a source of particular +interest, and the owner watched with strong disapprobation through the +skylight her efforts to make him an apple-pie bed with the limited means +at her disposal. He went down below at once as a wet blanket. + +"I was just shaking your bed up a bit," said Miss Harris, reddening. + +"I see you was," said the skipper, briefly. + +He tried to pluck up courage to tell her that he couldn't take her, but +only succeeded in giving vent to an inhospitable cough. + +"I'll get the supper," said the mate, suddenly; "you sit down, old man, +and talk to Lucy." + +In honour of the visitor he spread a small cloth, and then proceeded to +produce cold beef, pickles, and accessories in a manner which reminded +Miss Harris of white rabbits from a conjurer's hat. Captain Gibbs, +accepting the inevitable, ate his supper in silence and left them to +their glances. + +"We must make you up a bed, for'ard, Lucy," said the mate, when they had +finished. + +Miss Harris started. "Where's that?" she inquired. + +"Other end o' the boat," replied the mate, gathering up some bedding +under his arm. "You might bring a lantern, John." + +The skipper, who was feeling more sociable after a couple of glasses of +beer, complied, and accompanied the couple to the tiny forecastle. A +smell compounded of bilge, tar, paint, and other healthy disinfectants +emerged as the scuttle was pushed back. The skipper dangled the lantern +down and almost smiled. + +"I can't sleep there," said the girl, with decision. "I shall die o' +fright." + +"You'll get used to it," said Ted, encouragingly, as he helped her down; +"it's quite dry and comfortable." + +He put his arm round her waist and squeezed her hand, and aided by this +moral support, Miss Harris not only consented to remain, but found +various advantages in the forecastle over the cabin, which had escaped +the notice of previous voyagers. + +"I'll leave you the lantern," said the mate, making it fast, "and we +shall be on deck most o' the night. We get under way at two." + +He quitted the forecastle, followed by the skipper, after a polite but +futile attempt to give him precedence, and made his way to the cabin for +two or three hours' sleep. + +"There'll be a row at the other end, Ted," said the skipper, nervously, +as he got into his bunk. "Louisa's sure to blame me for letting you keep +company with a gal like this. We was talking about you only the other +day, and she said if you was married five years from now, it 'ud be quite +soon enough." + +"Let Loo mind her own business," said the mate, sharply; "she's not going +to nag me. She's not my wife, thank goodness!" + +He turned over and fell fast asleep, waking up fresh and bright three +hours later, to commence what he fondly thought would be the pleasantest +voyage of his life. + +The Arabella dropped slowly down with the tide, the wind being so light +that she was becalmed by every tall warehouse on the way. Off Greenwich, +however, the breeze freshened somewhat, and a little later Miss Harris, +looking somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to hair, came slowly +on deck. + +"Where's the looking-glass?" she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her. +"How does my hair look?" + +"All wavy," said the infatuated young man; "all little curls and +squiggles. Come down in the cabin; there's a glass there." + +Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller, +followed the mate below, and giving vent to a little cry of indignation +as she saw herself in the glass, waved the amorous Ted on deck, and +started work on her disarranged hair. + +At breakfast-time a little friction was caused by what the mate bitterly +termed the narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways of the skipper. He had +arranged that the skipper should steer while he and Miss Harris +breakfasted, but the coffee was no sooner on the table than the skipper +called him, and relinquishing the helm in his favour, went below to do +the honours. The mate protested. + +"It's not proper," said the skipper. "Me and 'er will 'ave our meals +together, and then you must have yours. She's under my care." + +Miss Harris assented blithely, and talk and laughter greeted the ears of +the indignant mate as he steered. He went down at last to cold coffee +and lukewarm herrings, returning to the deck after a hurried meal to find +the skipper narrating some of his choicest experiences to an audience +which hung on his lightest word. + +The disregard they showed for his feelings was maddening, and for the +first time in his life he became a prey to jealousy in its worst form. +It was quite clear to him that the girl had become desperately enamoured +of the skipper, and he racked his brain in a wild effort to discover the +reason. + +With an idea of reminding his brother-in-law of his position, he alluded +two or three times in a casual fashion to his wife. The skipper hardly +listened to him, and patting Miss Harris's cheek in a fatherly manner, +regaled her with an anecdote of the mate's boyhood which the latter had +spent a goodly portion of his life in denying. He denied it again, +hotly, and Miss Harris, conquering for a time her laughter, reprimanded +him severely for contradicting. + +By the time dinner was ready he was in a state of sullen apathy, and when +the meal was over and the couple came on deck again, so far forgot +himself as to compliment Miss Harris upon her appetite. + +"I'm ashamed of you, Ted," said the skipper, with severity. + +"I'm glad you know what shame is," retorted the mate. + +"If you can't be'ave yourself, you'd better keep a bit for'ard till you +get in a better temper," continued the skipper. + +"I'll be pleased to," said the smarting mate. "I wish the barge was +longer." + +"It couldn't be too long for me," said Miss Harris, tossing her head. + +"Be'aving like a schoolboy," murmured the skipper. + +"I know how to behave _my_-self," said the mate, as he disappeared below. +His head suddenly appeared again over the companion. "If some people +don't," he added, and disappeared again. + +He was pleased to notice as he ate his dinner that the giddy prattle +above had ceased, and with his back turned toward the couple when he +appeared on deck again, he lounged slowly forward until the skipper +called him back again. + +"Wot was them words you said just now, Ted?" he inquired. + +The mate repeated them with gusto. + +"Very good," said the skipper, sharply; "very good." + +"Don't you ever speak to me again," said Miss Harris, with a stately air, +"because I won't answer you if you do." + +The mate displayed more of his schoolboy nature. "Wait till you're +spoken to," he said, rudely. "This is your gratefulness, I suppose?" + +"Gratefulness?" said Miss Harris, with her chin in the air. "What for?" + +"For bringing you for a trip," replied the mate, sternly. + +"You bringing me for a trip!" said Miss Harris, scornfully. "Captain +Gibbs is the master here, I suppose. He is giving me the trip. You're +only the mate." + +"Just so," said the mate, with a grin at his brother-in-law, which made +that worthy shift uneasily. "I wonder what Loo will say when she sees +you with a lady aboard?" + +"She came to please you," said Captain Gibbs, with haste. + +"Ho! she did, did she?" jeered the mate. "Prove it; only don't look to +me to back you, that's all." + +The other eyed him in consternation, and his manner changed. + +"Don't play the fool, Ted," he said, not unkindly; "you know what Loo +is." + +"Well, I'm reckoning on that," said the mate, deliberately. "I'm going +for'ard; don't let me interrupt you two. So long." + +He went slowly forward, and lighting his pipe, sprawled carelessly on the +deck, and renounced the entire sex forthwith. At teatime the skipper +attempted to reverse the procedure at the other meals; but as Miss Harris +steadfastly declined to sit at the same table as the mate, his good +intentions came to naught. + +He made an appeal to what he termed the mate's better nature, after Miss +Harris had retired to the seclusion of her bed-chamber, but in vain. + +"She's nothing to do with me," declared the mate, majestically. "I wash +my hands of her. She's a flirt. I'm like Louisa, I can't bear flirts." + +The skipper said no more, but his face was so worn that Miss Harris, when +she came on deck in the early morning and found the barge gliding gently +between the grassy banks of a river, attributed it to the difficulty of +navigating so large a craft on so small and winding a stream. + +"We shall be alongside in 'arf an hour," said the skipper, eyeing her. + +Miss Harris expressed her gratification. + +"P'raps you wouldn't mind going down the fo'c'sle and staying there till +we've made fast," said the other. "I'd take it as a favour. My owners +don't like me to carry passengers." + +Miss Harris, who understood perfectly, said, "Certainly," and with a cold +stare at the mate, who was at no pains to conceal his amusement, went +below at once, thoughtfully closing the scuttle after her. + +"There's no call to make mischief, Ted," said the skipper, somewhat +anxiously, as they swept round the last bend and came into view of +Coalsham. + +The mate said nothing, but stood by to take in sail as they ran swiftly +toward the little quay. The pace slackened, and the Arabella, as though +conscious of the contraband in her forecastle, crept slowly to where a +stout, middle-aged woman, who bore a strong likeness to the mate, stood +upon the quay. + +"There's poor Loo," said the mate, with a sigh. + +The skipper made no reply to this infernal insinuation. The barge ran +alongside the quay and made fast. + +"I thought you'd be up," said Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. "Now come along +to breakfast; Ted 'll follow on." + +Captain Gibbs, dived down below for his coat, and slipping ashore, +thankfully prepared to move off with his wife. + +"Come on as soon as you can, Ted," said the latter. "Why, what on earth +is he making that face for?" + +She turned in amazement as her brother, making a pretence of catching her +husband's eye, screwed his face up into a note of interrogation and gave +a slight jerk with his thumb. + +"Come along," said Captain Gibbs, taking her arm with much affection. + +"But what's Ted looking like that for?" demanded his wife, as she easily +intercepted another choice facial expression of the mate's. + +"Oh, it's his fun," replied her husband, walking on. + +"Fun?" repeated Mrs. Gibbs, sharply. "What's the matter, Ted." + +"Nothing," replied the mate. + +"Touch o' toothache," said the skipper. "Come along, Loo; I can just do +with one o' your breakfasts." + +Mrs. Gibbs suffered herself to be led on, and had got at least five yards +on the way home, when she turned and looked back. The mate had still got +the toothache, and was at that moment in all the agonies of a phenomenal +twinge. + +"There's something wrong here," said Mrs. Gibbs as she retraced her +steps. "Ted, what are you making that face for?" + +"It's my own face," said the mate, evasively. + +Mrs. Gibbs conceded the point, and added bitterly that it couldn't be +helped. All the same she wanted to know what he meant by it. + +"Ask John," said the vindictive mate. + +Mrs. Gibbs asked. Her husband said he didn't know, and added that Ted +had been like it before, but he had not told her for fear of frightening +her. Then he tried to induce her to go with him to the chemist's to get +something for it. + +Mrs. Gibbs shook her head firmly, and boarding the barge, took a seat on +the hatch and proceeded to catechise her brother as to his symptoms. He +denied that there was anything the matter with him, while his eyes openly +sought those of Captain Gibbs as though asking for instruction. + +"You come home, Ted," she said at length. + +"I can't," said the mate. "I can't leave the ship." + +"Why not?" demanded his sister. + +"Ask John," said the mate again. + +At this Mrs. Gibbs's temper, which had been rising, gave way altogether, +and she stamped fiercely upon the deck. A stamp of the foot has been for +all time a rough-and-ready means of signalling; the fore-scuttle was +drawn back, and the face of a young and pretty girl appeared framed in +the opening. The mate raised his eyebrows with a helpless gesture, and +as for the unfortunate skipper, any jury would have found him guilty +without leaving the box. The wife of his bosom, with a flaming visage, +turned and regarded him. + + +[Illustration: "YOU VILLAIN!" SHE, SAID, IN A CHOKING VOICE] + + +"You villain!" she said, in a choking voice. + +Captain Gibbs caught his breath and looked appealingly at the mate. + +"It's a little surprise for you, my dear," he faltered, "it's Ted's young +lady." + +"Nothing of the kind," said the mate, sharply. + +"It's not? How dare you say such a thing?" demanded Miss Harris, +stepping on to the deck. + +"Well, you brought her aboard, Ted, you know you did," pleaded the +unhappy skipper. + +The mate did not deny it, but his face was so full of grief and surprise +that the other's heart sank within him. + +"All right," said the mate at last; "have it your own way." + +"Hold your tongue, Ted," shouted Mrs. Gibbs; "you're trying to shield +him." + +"I tell you Ted brought her aboard, and they had a lover's quarrel," said +her unhappy spouse. "It's nothing to do with me at all." + +"And that's why you told me Ted had got the toothache, and tried to get +me off to the chemist's, I s'pose," retorted his wife, with virulence. +"Do you think I'm a fool? How dare you ask a young woman on this barge? +How dare you?" + +"I didn't ask her," said her husband. + +"I s'pose she came without being asked," sneered his wife, turning her +regards to the passenger; "she looks the sort that might. You brazen- +faced girl!" + +"Here, go easy, Loo," interrupted the mate, flushing as he saw the girl's +pale face. + +"Mind your own business," said his sister, violently. + +"It is my business," said the repentant mate. "I brought her aboard, and +then we quarrelled." + +"I've no doubt," said his sister, bitterly; "it's very pretty, but it +won't do." + +"I swear it's the truth," said the mate. + +"Why did John keep it so quiet and hide her for, then?" demanded his +sister. + +"I came down for the trip," said Miss Harris; "that is all about it. +There is nothing to make a fuss about. How much is it, Captain Gibbs?" + +She produced a little purse from her pocket, but before the embarrassed +skipper could reply, his infuriated wife struck it out of her hand. The +mate sprang instinctively forward, but too late, and the purse fell with +a splash into the water. The girl gave a faint cry and clasped her +hands. + +"How am I to get back?" she gasped. + +"I'll see to that, Lucy," said the mate. "I'm very sorry--I've been a +brute." + +"You?" said the indignant girl. "I would sooner drown myself than be +beholden to you." + +"I'm very sorry," repeated the mate, humbly. + +"There's enough of this play-acting," interposed Mrs. Gibbs. "Get off +this barge." + +"You stay where you are," said the mate, authoritatively. + +"Send that girl off this barge," screamed Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. + +Captain Gibbs smiled in a silly fashion and scratched his head. "Where +is she to go?" he asked feebly. + +"Wh'at does it matter to you where she goes?" cried his wife, fiercely. +"Send her off." + +The girl eyed her haughtily, and repulsing the mate as he strove to +detain her, stepped to the side. Then she paused as he suddenly threw +off his coat, and sitting down on the hatch, hastily removed his boots. +The skipper, divining his intentions, seized him by the arm. + +"Don't be a fool, Ted," he gasped; "you'll get under the barge." + +The mate shook him off, and went in with a splash which half drowned his +adviser. Miss Harris, clasping her hands, ran to the side and gazed +fearfully at the spot where he had disappeared, while his sister in a +terrible voice seized the opportunity to point out to her husband the +probably fatal results of his ill-doing. There was an anxious interval, +and then the mate's head appeared above the water, and after a breathing- +space disappeared again. The skipper, watching uneasily, stood by with a +lifebelt. + +"Come out, Ted," screamed his sister as he came up for breath again. + +The mate disappeared once more, but coming up for the third time, hung on +to the side of the barge to recover a bit. A clothed man in the water +savours of disaster and looks alarming. Miss Harris began to cry. + +"You'll be drowned," she whimpered. + +"Come out," said Mrs. Gibbs, in a raspy voice. She knelt on the deck and +twined her fingers in his hair. The mate addressed her in terms rendered +brotherly by pain. + +"Never mind about the purse," sobbed Miss Harris; "it doesn't matter." + +"Will you make it up if I come out, then," demanded the diver. + +"No; I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said the girl, +passionately. + +The mate disappeared again. This time he was out of sight longer than +usual, and when he came up merely tossed his arms weakly and went down +again. There was a scream from the women, and a mighty splash as the +skipper went overboard with a life-belt. The mate's head, black and +shining, showed for a moment; the skipper grabbed him by the hair and +towed him to the barge's side, and in the midst of a considerable hubbub +both men were drawn from the water. + +The skipper shook himself like a dog, but the mate lay on the deck inert +in a puddle of water. Mrs. Gibbs frantically slapped his hands; and Miss +Harris, bending over him, rendered first aid by kissing him wildly. + +Captain Gibbs pushed her away. "He won't come round while you're +a-kissing of him," he cried, roughly. + +To his indignant surprise the drowned man opened one eye and winked +acquiescence. The skipper dropped his arms by his side and stared at him +stupidly. + +"I saw his eyelid twitch," cried Mrs. Gibbs, joyfully. + +"He's all right," said her indignant husband; "'e ain't born to be +drowned, 'e ain't. I've spoilt a good suit of clothes for nothing." + +To his wife's amazement, he actually walked away from the insensible man, +and with a boathook reached for his hat, which was floating by. Mrs. +Gibbs, still gazing in blank astonishment, caught a seraphic smile on the +face of her brother as Miss Harris continued her ministrations, and in a +pardonable fit of temper the overwrought woman gave him a box on the ear, +which brought him round at once. + +"Where am I?" he inquired, artlessly. + +Mrs. Gibbs told him. She also told him her opinion of him, and without +plagiarizing her husband's words, came to the same conclusion as to his +ultimate fate. + +"You come along home with me," she said, turning in a friendly fashion to +the bewildered girl. "They deserve what they've got--both of 'em. I +only hope that they'll both get such awful colds that they won't find +their voices for a twelvemonth." + +She took the girl by the arm and helped her ashore. They turned their +heads once in the direction of the barge, and saw the justly incensed +skipper keeping the mate's explanations and apologies at bay with a boat- +hook. Then they went in to breakfast. + + + + + + +THE MONKEY'S PAW + +I. + +Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam +Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son +were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving +radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils +that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting +placidly by the fire. + +"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake +after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from +seeing it. + +"I'm listening," said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he +stretched out his hand. "Check." + +"I should hardly think that he'd come to-night," said his father, with +his hand poised over the board. + +"Mate," replied the son. + +"That's the worst of living so far out," bawled Mr. White, with sudden +and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way +places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway's a bog, and the road's a +torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because +only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn't matter." + +"Never mind, dear," said his wife, soothingly; "perhaps you'll win the +next one." + +Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance +between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a +guilty grin in his thin grey beard. + +"There he is," said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy +footsteps came toward the door. + +The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard +condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with +himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her +husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and +rubicund of visage. + +"Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him. + +The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the +fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers and +stood a small copper kettle on the fire. + +At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the +little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from +distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke +of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange +peoples. + +"Twenty-one years of it," said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. +"When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look +at him." + +"He don't look to have taken much harm," said Mrs. White, politely. + +"I'd like to go to India myself," said the old man, "just to look round a +bit, you know." + +"Better where you are," said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He +put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again. + +"I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers," said +the old man. "What was that you started telling me the other day about a +monkey's paw or something, Morris?" + +"Nothing," said the soldier, hastily. "Leastways nothing worth hearing." + +"Monkey's paw?" said Mrs. White, curiously. + +"Well, it's just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps," said the +sergeant-major, offhandedly. + +His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly +put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host +filled it for him. + +"To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just +an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy." + +He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew +back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously. + +"And what is there special about it?" inquired Mr. White as he took it +from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table. + +"It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major, +"a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and +that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell +on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it." + +His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their +light laughter jarred somewhat. + +"Well, why don't you have three, sir?" said Herbert White, cleverly. + +The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard +presumptuous youth. "I have," he said, quietly, and his blotchy face +whitened. + +"And did you really have the three wishes granted?" asked Mrs. White. + +"I did," said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong +teeth. + +"And has anybody else wished?" persisted the old lady. + +"The first man had his three wishes. Yes," was the reply; "I don't know +what the first two were, but the third was for death. That's how I got +the paw." + +His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group. + +"If you've had your three wishes, it's no good to you now, then, Morris," +said the old man at last. "What do you keep it for?" + +The soldier shook his head. "Fancy, I suppose," he said, slowly. "I did +have some idea of selling it, but I don't think I will. It has caused +enough mischief already. Besides, people won't buy. They think it's a +fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to +try it first and pay me afterward." + +"If you could have another three wishes," said the old man, eyeing him +keenly, "would you have them?" + +"I don't know," said the other. "I don't know." + +He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, +suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down +and snatched it off. + +"Better let it burn," said the soldier, solemnly. + +"If you don't want it, Morris," said the other, "give it to me." + +"I won't," said his friend, doggedly. "I threw it on the fire. If you +keep it, don't blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again +like a sensible man." + +The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. "How +do you do it?" he inquired. + +"Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud," said the sergeant-major, +"but I warn you of the consequences." + +"Sounds like the Arabian Nights," said Mrs. White, as she rose and began +to set the supper. "Don't you think you might wish for four pairs of +hands for me?" + +Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst into +laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught +him by the arm. + +"If you must wish," he said, gruffly, "wish for something sensible." + +Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his +friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly +forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion +to a second instalment of the soldier's adventures in India. + +"If the tale about the monkey's paw is not more truthful than those he +has been telling us," said Herbert, as the door closed behind their +guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, "we sha'nt make much +out of it." + +"Did you give him anything for it, father?" inquired Mrs. White, +regarding her husband closely. + +"A trifle," said he, colouring slightly. "He didn't want it, but I made +him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away." + +"Likely," said Herbert, with pretended horror. "Why, we're going to be +rich, and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin +with; then you can't be henpecked." + +He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with +an antimacassar. + +Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. "I don't +know what to wish for, and that's a fact," he said, slowly. "It seems to +me I've got all I want." + +"If you only cleared the house, you'd be quite happy, wouldn't you?" +said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. "Well, wish for two hundred +pounds, then; that 'll just do it." + +His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the +talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at +his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords. + +"I wish for two hundred pounds," said the old man distinctly. + +A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a +shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him. + +"It moved," he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on +the floor. + +"As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake." + +"Well, I don't see the money," said his son as he picked it up and placed +it on the table, "and I bet I never shall." + +"It must have been your fancy, father," said his wife, regarding him +anxiously. + +He shook his head. "Never mind, though; there's no harm done, but it +gave me a shock all the same." + +They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. +Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously +at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and +depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose +to retire for the night. + +"I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your +bed," said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, "and something horrible +squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your +ill-gotten gains." + +He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces +in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it +in amazement.' It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt +on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it. His +hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand +on his coat and went up to bed. + + + +II. + +In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the +breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic +wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, +and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a +carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues. + +"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs. White. "The idea of +our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these +days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?" + +"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert. + +"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said' his father, "that +you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence." + +"Well, don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert as he +rose from the table. "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious +man, and we shall have to disown you." + +His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the +road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense +of her husband's credulity. All of which did not prevent her from +scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from +referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits +when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill. + +"Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he +comes home," she said, as they sat at dinner. + +"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for all +that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to." + +"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly. + +"I say it did," replied the other. "There was no thought about it; I had +just---- What's the matter?" + +His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a +man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared +to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the +two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and +wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, +and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon +it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path. +Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly +unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel +beneath the cushion of her chair. + +She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He +gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old +lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a +garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as +patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he +was at first strangely silent. + +"I--was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece +of cotton from his trousers. "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'" + +The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked, +breathlessly. "Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is +it?" + +Her husband interposed. "There, there, mother," he said, hastily. "Sit +down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm +sure, sir;" and he eyed the other wistfully. + +"I'm sorry--" began the visitor. + +"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother, wildly. + +The visitor bowed in assent. "Badly hurt," he said, quietly, "but he is +not in any pain." + +"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands. "Thank God for +that! Thank--" + +She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned +upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's +perverted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted +husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence. + +"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length in a low +voice. + +"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes." + +He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife's hand +between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old +courting-days nearly forty years before. + +"He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor. +"It is hard." + +The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. "The firm +wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss," +he said, without looking round. "I beg that you will understand I am +only their servant and merely obeying orders." + +There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring, and +her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend +the sergeant might have carried into his first action. + +"I was to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility," +continued the other. "They admit no liability at all, but in +consideration of your son's services, they wish to present you with +a certain sum as compensation." + +Mr. White dropped his wife's hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a +look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, "How +much?" + +"Two hundred pounds," was the answer. + +Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his +hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor. + + +III. + +In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried +their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It +was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and +remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to happen +--something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts +to bear. + +But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation--the +hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes +they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and +their days were long to weariness. + +It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night, +stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in +darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He +raised himself in bed and listened. + +"Come back," he said, tenderly. "You will be cold." + +"It is colder for my son," said the old woman, and wept afresh. + +The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his +eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden +wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start. + +"The paw!" she cried wildly. "The monkey's paw!" + +He started up in alarm. "Where? Where is it? What's the matter?" + +She came stumbling across the room toward him. "I want it," she said, +quietly. "You've not destroyed it?" + +"It's in the parlour, on the bracket," he replied, marvelling. "Why?" + +She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek. + +"I only just thought of it," she said, hysterically. "Why didn't I think +of it before? Why didn't you think of it?" + +"Think of what?" he questioned. + +"The other two wishes," she replied, rapidly. + +"We've only had one." + +"Was not that enough?" he demanded, fiercely. + +"No," she cried, triumphantly; "we'll have one more. Go down and get it +quickly, and wish our boy alive again." + +The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. +"Good God, you are mad!" he cried, aghast. + +"Get it," she panted; "get it quickly, and wish--Oh, my boy, my boy!" + +Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. "Get back to bed," he +said, unsteadily. "You don't know what you are saying." + +"We had the first wish granted," said the old woman, feverishly; "why not +the second?" + +"A coincidence," stammered the old man. + +"Go and get it and wish," cried his wife, quivering with excitement. + +The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. "He has been +dead ten days, and besides he--I would not tell you else, but--I could +only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to +see then, how now?" + +"Bring him back," cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. +"Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?" + +He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then +to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear +that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he +could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as +he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with +sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until +he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his +hand. + +Even his wife's face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white +and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. +He was afraid of her. + +"Wish!" she cried, in a strong voice. + +"It is foolish and wicked," he faltered. + +"Wish!" repeated his wife. + +He raised his hand. "I wish my son alive again." + +The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he +sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked +to the window and raised the blind. + +He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the +figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, +which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing +pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger +than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable sense of +relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, and a +minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically +beside him. + +Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A +stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. +The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up +his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went +downstairs for a candle. + +At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike +another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be +scarcely audible, sounded on the front door. + +The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood +motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he +turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. +A third knock sounded through the house. + +"What's that?" cried the old woman, starting up. + +"A rat," said the old man in shaking tones--"a rat. It passed me on the +stairs." + +His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the +house. + +"It's Herbert!" she screamed. "It's Herbert!" + +She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by +the arm, held her tightly. + +"What are you going to do?" he whispered hoarsely. + +"It's my boy; it's Herbert!" she cried, struggling mechanically. +"I forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. +I must open the door. + +"For God's sake don't let it in," cried the old man, trembling. + +"You're afraid of your own son," she cried, struggling. "Let me go. I'm +coming, Herbert; I'm coming." + +There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench +broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, +and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the +chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the +socket. Then the old woman's voice, strained and panting. + +"The bolt," she cried, loudly. "Come down. I can't reach it." + +But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in +search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside got +in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he +heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage +against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly +back, and at the same moment he found the monkey's paw, and frantically +breathed his third and last wish. + +The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the +house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind +rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and +misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then +to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet +and deserted road. + + + + + + +BILL'S PAPER CHASE + +Sailormen 'ave their faults, said the night watchman, frankly. I'm not +denying of it. I used to 'ave myself when I was at sea, but being close +with their money is a fault as can seldom be brought ag'in 'em. + +I saved some money once--two golden sovereigns, owing to a 'ole in my +pocket. Before I got another ship I slept two nights on a doorstep and +'ad nothing to eat, and I found them two sovereigns in the lining o' my +coat when I was over two thousand miles away from the nearest pub. + +I on'y knew one miser all the years I was at sea. Thomas Geary 'is name +was, and we was shipmates aboard the barque _Grenada,_ homeward bound from +Sydney to London. + +Thomas was a man that was getting into years; sixty, I think 'e was, and +old enough to know better. 'E'd been saving 'ard for over forty years, +and as near as we could make out 'e was worth a matter o' six 'undered +pounds. He used to be fond o' talking about it, and letting us know how +much better off 'e was than any of the rest of us. + +We was about a month out from Sydney when old Thomas took sick. Bill +Hicks said that it was owing to a ha'penny he couldn't account for; but +Walter Jones, whose family was always ill, and thought 'e knew a lot +about it, said that 'e knew wot it was, but 'e couldn't remember the name +of it, and that when we got to London and Thomas saw a doctor, we should +see as 'ow 'e was right. + +Whatever it was the old man got worse and worse. The skipper came down +and gave 'im some physic and looked at 'is tongue, and then 'e looked at +our tongues to see wot the difference was. Then 'e left the cook in +charge of 'im and went off. + +The next day Thomas was worse, and it was soon clear to everybody but 'im +that 'e was slipping 'is cable. He wouldn't believe it at first, though +the cook told 'im, Bill Hicks told him, and Walter Jones 'ad a +grandfather that went off in just the same way. + +"I'm not going to die," says Thomas "How can I die and leave all that +money?" + +"It'll be good for your relations, Thomas," says Walter Jones. + +"I ain't got any," says the old man. + +"Well, your friends, then, Thomas," says Walter, soft-like. + +"Ain't got any," says the old man ag'in. + +"Yes, you 'ave, Thomas," says Walter, with a kind smile; "I could tell +you one you've got." + +Thomas shut his eyes at 'im and began to talk pitiful about 'is money and +the 'ard work 'e'd 'ad saving of it. And by-and-by 'e got worse, and +didn't reckernise us, but thought we was a pack o' greedy, drunken +sailormen. He thought Walter Jones was a shark, and told 'im so, and, +try all 'e could, Walter couldn't persuade 'im different. + +He died the day arter. In the morning 'e was whimpering about 'is money +ag'in, and angry with Bill when 'e reminded 'im that 'e couldn't take it +with 'im, and 'e made Bill promise that 'e should be buried just as 'e +was. Bill tucked him up arter that, and when 'e felt a canvas belt tied +round the old man's waist 'e began to see wot 'e was driving at. + +The weather was dirty that day and there was a bit o' sea running, +consequently all 'ands was on deck, and a boy about sixteen wot used to +'elp the steward down aft was lookin' arter Thomas. Me and Bill just run +down to give a look at the old man in time. + +"I am going to take it with me, Bill," says the old man. + +"That's right," says Bill. + +"My mind's--easy now," says Thomas. "I gave it to Jimmy--to--to--throw +overboard for me." + +"Wot?" says Bill, staring. + +"That's right, Bill," says the boy. "He told me to. It was a little +packet o' banknotes. He gave me tuppence for doing it." + +Old Thomas seemed to be listening. 'Is eyes was open, and 'e looked +artful at Bill to think what a clever thing 'e'd done. + +"Nobody's goin'-to spend-my money," 'e says. "Nobody's" + +We drew back from 'is bunk and stood staring at 'im. Then Bill turned to +the boy. + +"Go and tell the skipper 'e's gone," 'e says, "and mind, for your own +sake, don't tell the skipper or anybody else that you've thrown all that +money overboard." + +"Why not?" says Jimmy. + +"Becos you'll be locked up for it," says Bill; "you'd no business to do +it. You've been and broke the law. It ought to ha' been left to +somebody." + +Jimmy looked scared, and arter 'e was gone I turned to Bill, and I looks +at 'im and I says "What's the little game, Bill?" + +"_Game_?" said Bill, snorting at me. "I don't want the pore boy to get +into trouble, do I? Pore little chap. You was young yourself once." + +"Yes," I says; "but I'm a bit older now, Bill, and unless you tell me +what your little game is, I shall tell the skipper myself, and the chaps +too. Pore old Thomas told 'im to do it, so where's the boy to blame?" + +"Do you think Jimmy did?" says Bill, screwing up his nose at me. "That +little varmint is walking about worth six 'undered quid. Now you keep +your mouth shut and I'll make it worth your while." + +Then I see Bill's game. "All right, I'll keep quiet for the sake of my +half," I says, looking at 'im. + +I thought he'd ha' choked, and the langwidge 'e see fit to use was a'most +as much as I could answer. + +"Very well, then," 'e says, at last, "halves it is. It ain't robbery +becos it belongs to nobody, and it ain't the boy's becos 'e was told to +throw it overboard." + +They buried pore old Thomas next morning, and arter it was all over Bill +put 'is 'and on the boy's shoulder as they walked for'ard and 'e says, +"Poor old Thomas 'as gone to look for 'is money," he says; "wonder +whether 'e'll find it! Was it a big bundle, Jimmy?" + +"No," says the boy, shaking 'is 'ead. "They was six 'undered pound notes +and two sovereigns, and I wrapped the sovereigns up in the notes to make +'em sink. Fancy throwing money away like that, Bill: seems a sin, don't +it?" + +Bill didn't answer 'im, and that afternoon the other chaps below being +asleep we searched 'is bunk through and through without any luck, and at +last Bill sat down and swore 'e must ha' got it about 'im. + +We waited till night, and when everybody was snoring 'ard we went over to +the boy's bunk and went all through 'is pockets and felt the linings, and +then we went back to our side and Bill said wot 'e thought about Jimmy in +whispers. + +"He must ha' got it tied round 'is waist next to 'is skin, like Thomas +'ad," I says. + +We stood there in the dark whispering, and then Bill couldn't stand it +any longer, and 'e went over on tiptoe to the bunk ag'in. He was +tremblin' with excitement and I wasn't much better, when all of a sudden +the cook sat up in 'is bunk with a dreadful laughing scream and called +out that somebody was ticklin' 'im. + +I got into my bunk and Bill got into 'is, and we lay there listening +while the cook, who was a terrible ticklish man, leaned out of 'is bunk +and said wot 'e'd do if it 'appened ag'in. + +"Go to sleep," says Walter Jones; "you're dreamin'. Who d'you think +would want to tickle you?" + +"I tell you," says the cook, "somebody come over and tickled me with a +'and the size of a leg o' mutton. I feel creepy all over." + +Bill gave it up for that night, but the next day 'e pretended to think +Jimmy was gettin' fat an' 'e caught 'old of 'im and prodded 'im all over. +He thought 'e felt something round 'is waist, but 'e couldn't be sure, +and Jimmy made such a noise that the other chaps interfered and told Bill +to leave 'im alone. For a whole week we tried to find that money, and +couldn't, and Bill said it was a suspicious thing that Jimmy kept aft a +good deal more than 'e used to, and 'e got an idea that the boy might ha' +'idden it somewhere there. At the end of that time, 'owever, owing to +our being short-'anded, Jimmy was sent for'ard to work as ordinary +seaman, and it began to be quite noticeable the way 'e avoided Bill. + +At last one day we got 'im alone down the fo'c'sle, and Bill put 'is arm +round 'im and got im on the locker and asked 'im straight out where the +money was. + +"Why, I chucked it overboard," he says. "I told you so afore. What a +memory you've got, Bill!" + +Bill picked 'im up and laid 'im on the locker, and we searched 'im +thoroughly. We even took 'is boots off, and then we 'ad another look in +'is bunk while 'e was putting 'em on ag'in. + +"If you're innercent," says Bill, "why don't you call out?--eh?" + +"Because you told me not to say anything about it, Bill," says the boy. +"But I will next time. Loud, I will." + +"Look 'ere," says Bill, "you tell us where it is, and the three of us'll +go shares in it. That'll be two 'undered pounds each, and we'll tell you +'ow to get yours changed without getting caught. We're cleverer than you +are, you know." + +"I know that, Bill," says the boy; "but it's no good me telling you lies. +I chucked it overboard." + +"Very good, then," says Bill, getting up. "I'm going to tell the +skipper." + +"Tell 'im," says Jimmy. "I don't care." + +"Then you'll be searched arter you've stepped ashore," says Bill, "and +you won't be allowed on the ship ag'in. You'll lose it all by being +greedy, whereas if you go shares with us you'll 'ave two 'undered +pounds." + +I could see as 'ow the boy 'adn't thought o' that, and try as 'e would 'e +couldn't 'ide 'is feelin's. He called Bill a red-nosed shark, and 'e +called me somethin' I've forgotten now. + +"Think it over," says Bill; "mind, you'll be collared as soon as you've +left the gangway and searched by the police." + +"And will they tickle the cook too, I wonder?" says Jimmy, savagely. + +"And if they find it you'll go to prison," says Bill, giving 'im a clump +o' the side o' the 'ead, "and you won't like that, I can tell you." + +"Why, ain't it nice, Bill?" says Jimmy, holding 'is ear. + +Bill looked at 'im and then 'e steps to the ladder. "I'm not going to +talk to you any more, my lad," 'e says. "I'm going to tell the skipper." + +He went up slowly, and just as 'e reached the deck Jimmy started up and +called 'im. Bill pretended not to 'ear, and the boy ran up on deck and +follered 'im; and arter a little while they both came down again +together. + +"Did you wish to speak to me, my lad?" says Bill, 'olding 'is 'ead up. + +"Yes," says the boy, fiddling with 'is fingers; "if you keep your ugly +mouth shut, we'll go shares." + +"Ho!" says Bill, "I thought you throwed it overboard!" + +"I thought so, too, Bill," says Jimmy, very softly, "and when I came +below ag'in I found it in my trousers pocket." + +"Where is it now?" says Bill. + +"Never mind where it is," says the boy; "you couldn't get it if I was to +tell you. It'll take me all my time to do it myself." + +"Where is it?" says Bill, ag'in. "I'm goin' to take care of it. I +won't trust you." + +"And I can't trust you," says Jimmy. + +"If you don't tell me where it is this minute," says Bill, moving to the +ladder ag'in, "I'm off to tell the skipper. I want it in my 'ands, or at +any rate my share of it. Why not share it out now?" + +"Because I 'aven't got it," says Jimmy, stamping 'is foot, "that's why, +and it's all your silly fault. Arter you came pawing through my pockets +when you thought I was asleep I got frightened and 'id it." + +"Where?" says Bill. + +"In the second mate's mattress," says Jimmy. "I was tidying up down aft +and I found a 'ole in the underneath side of 'is mattress and I shoved it +in there, and poked it in with a bit o' stick." + +"And 'ow are you going to get it?" says Bill, scratching 'is 'ead. + +"That's wot I don't know, seeing that I'm not allowed aft now," says +Jimmy. "One of us'll 'ave to make a dash for it when we get to London. +And mind if there's any 'ankypanky on your part, Bill, I'll give the show +away myself." + +The cook came down just then and we 'ad to leave off talking, and I could +see that Bill was so pleased at finding that the money 'adn't been thrown +overboard that 'e was losing sight o' the difficulty o' getting at it. +In a day or two, 'owever, 'e see it as plain as me and Jimmy did, and, as +time went by, he got desprit, and frightened us both by 'anging about aft +every chance 'e got. + +The companion-way faced the wheel, and there was about as much chance o' +getting down there without being seen as there would be o' taking a man's +false teeth out of 'is mouth without 'is knowing it. Jimmy went down one +day while Bill was at the wheel to look for 'is knife, wot 'e thought +'e'd left down there, and 'ed 'ardly got down afore Bill saw 'im come up +ag'in, 'olding on to the top of a mop which the steward was using. + +We couldn't figure it out nohow, and to think o' the second mate, a +little man with a large fam'ly, who never 'ad a penny in 'is pocket, +sleeping every night on a six 'undered pound mattress, sent us pretty +near crazy. We used to talk it over whenever we got a chance, and Bill +and Jimmy could scarcely be civil to each other. The boy said it was +Bill's fault, and 'e said it was the boy's. + +"The on'y thing I can see," says the boy, one day, "is for Bill to 'ave a +touch of sunstroke as 'e's leaving the wheel one day, tumble 'ead-first +down the companion-way, and injure 'isself so severely that 'e can't be +moved. Then they'll put 'im in a cabin down aft, and p'raps I'll 'ave to +go and nurse 'im. Anyway, he'll be down there." + +"It's a very good idea, Bill," I says. + +"Ho," says Bill, looking at me as if 'e would eat me. "Why don't you do +it, then?" + +"I'd sooner you did it, Bill," says the boy; "still, I don't mind which +it is. Why not toss up for it?" + +"Get away," says Bill. "Get away afore I do something you won't like, +you blood-thirsty little murderer." + +"I've got a plan myself," he says, in a low voice, after the boy 'ad +'opped off, "and if I can't think of nothing better I'll try it, and +mind, not a word to the boy." + +He didn't think o' nothing better, and one night just as we was making +the Channel 'e tried 'is plan. He was in the second mate's watch, and +by-and-by 'e leans over the wheel and says to 'im in a low voice, "This +is my last v'y'ge, sir." + +"Oh," says the second mate, who was a man as didn't mind talking to a man +before the mast. "How's that?" + +"I've got a berth ashore, sir," says Bill, "and I wanted to ask a favour, +sir." + +The second mate growled and walked off a pace or two. + +"I've never been so 'appy as I've been on this ship," says Bill; "none of +us 'ave. We was saying so the other night, and everybody agreed as it +was owing to you, sir, and your kindness to all of us." + +The second mate coughed, but Bill could see as 'e was a bit pleased. + +"The feeling came over me," says Bill, "that when I leave the sea for +good I'd like to 'ave something o' yours to remember you by, sir. And it +seemed to me that if I 'ad your--mattress I should think of you ev'ry +night o' my life." + +"My wot?" says the second mate, staring at 'im. "Your mattress, sir," +says Bill. "If I might make so bold as to offer a pound for it, sir. I +want something wot's been used by you, and I've got a fancy for that as a +keepsake." The second mate shook 'is 'ead. "I'm sorry, Bill," 'e says, +gently, "but I couldn't let it go at that." + +"I'd sooner pay thirty shillin's than not 'ave it, sir," says Bill, +'umbly. + +"I gave a lot of money for that mattress," says the mate, ag'in. "I +forgit 'ow much, but a lot. You don't know 'ow valuable that mattress +is." + +"I know it's a good one, sir, else you wouldn't 'ave it," says Bill. +"Would a couple o' pounds buy it, sir?" + +The second mate hum'd and ha'd, but Bill was afeard to go any 'igher. So +far as 'e could make out from Jimmy, the mattress was worth about +eighteen pence--to anybody who wasn't pertiklar. + +"I've slept on that mattress for years," says the second mate, looking at +'im from the corner of 'is eye. "I don't believe I could sleep on +another. Still, to oblige you, Bill, you shall 'ave it at that if you +don't want it till we go ashore?" + +"Thankee, sir," says Bill, 'ardly able to keep from dancing, "and I'll +'and over the two pounds when we're paid off. I shall keep it all my +life, sir, in memory of you and your kindness." + +"And mind you keep quiet about it," says the second mate, who didn't want +the skipper to know wot 'e'd been doing, "because I don't want to be +bothered by other men wanting to buy things as keepsakes." + +Bill promised 'im like a shot, and when 'e told me about it 'e was nearly +crying with joy. + +"And mind," 'e says, "I've bought that mattress, bought it as it stands, +and it's got nothing to do with Jimmy. We'll each pay a pound and halve +wot's in it." + +He persuaded me at last, but that boy watched us like a cat watching a +couple of canaries, and I could see we should 'ave all we could do to +deceive 'im. He seemed more suspicious o' Bill than me, and 'e kep' +worrying us nearly every day to know what we were going to do. + +We beat about in the channel with a strong 'ead-wind for four days, and +then a tug picked us up and towed us to London. + +The excitement of that last little bit was 'orrible. Fust of all we 'ad +got to get the mattress, and then in some way we 'ad got to get rid o' +Jimmy. Bill's idea was for me to take 'im ashore with me and tell 'im +that Bill would join us arterwards, and then lose 'im; but I said that +till I'd got my share I couldn't bear to lose sight o' Bill's honest face +for 'alf a second. + +And, besides, Jimmy wouldn't 'ave gone. + +All the way up the river 'e stuck to Bill, and kept asking 'im wot we +were to do. 'E was 'alf crying, and so excited that Bill was afraid the +other chaps would notice it. + +We got to our berth in the East India Docks at last, and arter we were +made fast we went below to 'ave a wash and change into our shoregoing +togs. Jimmy watched us all the time, and then 'e comes up to Bill biting +'is nails, and says: + +"How's it to be done, Bill?" + +"Hang about arter the rest 'ave gone ashore, and trust to luck," says +Bill, looking at me. "We'll see 'ow the land lays when we draw our +advance." + +We went down aft to draw ten shillings each to go ashore with. Bill and +me got ours fust, and then the second mate who 'ad tipped 'im the wink +followed us out unconcerned-like and 'anded Bill the mattress rolled up +in a sack. + +"'Ere you are, Bill," 'e says. + +"Much obliged, sir," says Bill, and 'is 'ands trembled so as 'e could +'ardly 'old it, and 'e made to go off afore Jimmy come on deck. + +Then that fool of a mate kept us there while 'e made a little speech. +Twice Bill made to go off, but 'e put 'is 'and on 'is arm and kept 'im +there while 'e told 'im 'ow he'd always tried to be liked by the men, and +'ad generally succeeded, and in the middle of it up popped Master Jimmy. + +He gave a start as he saw the bag, and 'is eyes opened wide, and then as +we walked forward 'e put 'is arm through Bill's and called 'im all the +names 'e could think of. + +"You'd steal the milk out of a cat's saucer," 'e says; "but mind, you +don't leave this ship till I've got my share." + +"I meant it for a pleasant surprise for you, Jimmy," says Bill, trying to +smile. + +"I don't like your surprises, Bill, so I don't deceive you," says the +boy. "Where are you going to open it?" + +"I was thinking of opening it in my bunk," says Bill. "The perlice might +want to examine it if we took it through the dock. Come on, Jimmy, old +man." + +"Yes; all right," says the boy, nodding 'is 'ead at 'im. "I'll stay up +'ere. You might forget yourself, Bill, if I trusted myself down there +with you alone. You can throw my share up to me, and then you'll leave +the ship afore I do. See?" + +"Go to blazes," says Bill; and then, seeing that the last chance 'ad +gone, we went below, and 'e chucked the bundle in 'is bunk. There was +only one chap down there, and arter spending best part o' ten minutes +doing 'is hair 'e nodded to us and went off. + +Half a minute later Bill cut open the mattress and began to search +through the stuffing, while I struck matches and watched 'im. It wasn't +a big mattress and there wasn't much stuffing, but we couldn't seem to +see that money. Bill went all over it ag'in and ag'in, and then 'e stood +up and looked at me and caught 'is breath painful. + +"Do you think the mate found it?" 'e says, in a 'usky voice. + +We went through it ag'in, and then Bill went half-way up the fo'c's'le +ladder and called softly for Jimmy. He called three times, and then, +with a sinking sensation in 'is stummick, 'e went up on deck and I +follered 'im. The boy was nowhere to be seen. All we saw was the ship's +cat 'aving a wash and brush-up afore going ashore, and the skipper +standing aft talking to the owner. + +We never saw that boy ag'in. He never turned up for 'is box, and 'e +didn't show up to draw 'is pay. Everybody else was there, of course, and +arter I'd got mine and come outside I see pore Bill with 'is back up +ag'in a wall, staring 'ard at the second mate, who was looking at 'im +with a kind smile, and asking 'im 'ow he'd slept. The last thing I saw +of Bill, the pore chap 'ad got 'is 'ands in 'is trousers pockets, and was +trying 'is hardest to smile back. + + + + + + +THE WELL + +Two men stood in the billiard-room of an old country house, talking. +Play, which had been of a half-hearted nature, was over, and they sat at +the open window, looking out over the park stretching away beneath them, +conversing idly. + +"Your time's nearly up, Jem," said one at length, "this time six weeks +you'll be yawning out the honeymoon and cursing the man--woman I mean-- +who invented them." + +Jem Benson stretched his long limbs in the chair and grunted in dissent. + +"I've never understood it," continued Wilfred Carr, yawning. "It's not +in my line at all; I never had enough money for my own wants, let alone +for two. Perhaps if I were as rich as you or Croesus I might regard it +differently." + +There was just sufficient meaning in the latter part of the remark for +his cousin to forbear to reply to it. He continued to gaze out of the +window and to smoke slowly. + +"Not being as rich as Croesus--or you," resumed Carr, regarding him from +beneath lowered lids, "I paddle my own canoe down the stream of Time, +and, tying it to my friends' door-posts, go in to eat their dinners." + +"Quite Venetian," said Jem Benson, still looking out of the window. +"It's not a bad thing for you, Wilfred, that you have the doorposts and +dinners--and friends." + +Carr grunted in his turn. "Seriously though, Jem," he said, slowly, +"you're a lucky fellow, a very lucky fellow. If there is a better girl +above ground than Olive, I should like to see her." + +"Yes," said the other, quietly. + +"She's such an exceptional girl," continued Carr, staring out of the +window. "She's so good and gentle. She thinks you are a bundle of all +the virtues." + +He laughed frankly and joyously, but the other man did not join him. +"Strong sense--of right and wrong, though," continued Carr, musingly. +"Do you know, I believe that if she found out that you were not----" + +"Not what?" demanded Benson, turning upon him fiercely, "Not what?" + +"Everything that you are," returned his cousin, with a grin that belied +his words, "I believe she'd drop you." + +"Talk about something else," said Benson, slowly; "your pleasantries are +not always in the best taste." + +Wilfred Carr rose and taking a cue from the rack, bent over the board and +practiced one or two favourite shots. "The only other subject I can talk +about just at present is my own financial affairs," he said slowly, as he +walked round the table. + +"Talk about something else," said Benson again, bluntly. + +"And the two things are connected," said Carr, and dropping his cue he +half sat on the table and eyed his cousin. + +There was a long silence. Benson pitched the end of his cigar out of the +window, and leaning back closed his eyes. + +"Do you follow me?" inquired Carr at length. + +Benson opened his eyes and nodded at the window. + +"Do you want to follow my cigar?" he demanded. + +"I should prefer to depart by the usual way for your sake," returned the +other, unabashed. "If I left by the window all sorts of questions would +be asked, and you know what a talkative chap I am." + +"So long as you don't talk about my affairs," returned the other, +restraining himself by an obvious effort, "you can talk yourself hoarse." + +"I'm in a mess," said Carr, slowly, "a devil of a mess. If I don't raise +fifteen hundred by this day fortnight, I may be getting my board and +lodging free." + +"Would that be any change?" questioned Benson. + +"The quality would," retorted the other. "The address also would not be +good. Seriously, Jem, will you let me have the fifteen hundred?" + +"No," said the other, simply. + +Carr went white. "It's to save me from ruin," he said, thickly. + +"I've helped you till I'm tired," said Benson, turning and regarding him, +"and it is all to no good. If you've got into a mess, get out of it. +You should not be so fond of giving autographs away." + +"It's foolish, I admit," said Carr, deliberately. "I won't do so any +more. By the way, I've got some to sell. You needn't sneer. They're +not my own." + +"Whose are they?" inquired the other. + +"Yours." + +Benson got up from his chair and crossed over to him. "What is this?" +he asked, quietly. "Blackmail?" + +"Call it what you like," said Carr. "I've got some letters for sale, +price fifteen hundred. And I know a man who would buy them at that price +for the mere chance of getting Olive from you. I'll give you first +offer." + +"If you have got any letters bearing my signature, you will be good +enough to give them to me," said Benson, very slowly. + +"They're mine," said Carr, lightly; "given to me by the lady you wrote +them to. I must say that they are not all in the best possible taste." + +His cousin reached forward suddenly, and catching him by the collar of +his coat pinned him down on the table. + +"Give me those letters," he breathed, sticking his face close to Carr's. + +"They're not here," said Carr, struggling. "I'm not a fool. Let me go, +or I'll raise the price." + +The other man raised him from the table in his powerful hands, apparently +with the intention of dashing his head against it. Then suddenly his +hold relaxed as an astonished-looking maid-servant entered the room with +letters. Carr sat up hastily. + +"That's how it was done," said Benson, for the girl's benefit as he took +the letters. + +"I don't wonder at the other man making him pay for it, then," said Carr, +blandly. + +"You will give me those letters?" said Benson, suggestively, as the girl +left the room. + +"At the price I mentioned, yes," said Carr; "but so sure as I am a living +man, if you lay your clumsy hands on me again, I'll double it. Now, I'll +leave you for a time while you think it over." + +He took a cigar from the box and lighting it carefully quitted the room. +His cousin waited until the door had closed behind him, and then turning +to the window sat there in a fit of fury as silent as it was terrible. + +The air was fresh and sweet from the park, heavy with the scent of +new-mown grass. The fragrance of a cigar was now added to it, and +glancing out he saw his cousin pacing slowly by. He rose and went to the +door, and then, apparently altering his mind, he returned to the window +and watched the figure of his cousin as it moved slowly away into the +moonlight. Then he rose again, and, for a long time, the room was empty. + + * * * * * + +It was empty when Mrs. Benson came in some time later to say good-night +to her son on her way to bed. She walked slowly round the table, and +pausing at the window gazed from it in idle thought, until she saw the +figure of her son advancing with rapid strides toward the house. He +looked up at the window. + +"Good-night," said she. + +"Good-night," said Benson, in a deep voice. + +"Where is Wilfred?" + +"Oh, he has gone," said Benson. + +"Gone?" + +"We had a few words; he was wanting money again, and I gave him a piece +of my mind. I don't think we shall see him again." + +"Poor Wilfred!" sighed Mrs. Benson. "He is always in trouble of some +sort. I hope that you were not too hard upon him." + +"No more than he deserved," said her son, sternly. "Good night." + + +II. + +The well, which had long ago fallen into disuse, was almost hidden by the +thick tangle of undergrowth which ran riot at that corner of the old +park. It was partly covered by the shrunken half of a lid, above which a +rusty windlass creaked in company with the music of the pines when the +wind blew strongly. The full light of the sun never reached it, and the +ground surrounding it was moist and green when other parts of the park +were gaping with the heat. + +Two people walking slowly round the park in the fragrant stillness of a +summer evening strayed in the direction of the well. + +"No use going through this wilderness, Olive," said Benson, pausing on +the outskirts of the pines and eyeing with some disfavour the gloom +beyond. + +"Best part of the park," said the girl briskly; "you know it's my +favourite spot." + +"I know you're very fond of sitting on the coping," said the man slowly, +"and I wish you wouldn't. One day you will lean back too far and fall +in." + +"And make the acquaintance of Truth," said Olive lightly. "Come along." + +She ran from him and was lost in the shadow of the pines, the bracken +crackling beneath her feet as she ran. Her companion followed slowly, +and emerging from the gloom saw her poised daintily on the edge of the +well with her feet hidden in the rank grass and nettles which surrounded +it. She motioned her companion to take a seat by her side, and smiled +softly as she felt a strong arm passed about her waist. + +"I like this place," said she, breaking a long silence, "it is so dismal +--so uncanny. Do you know I wouldn't dare to sit here alone, Jem. I +should imagine that all sorts of dreadful things were hidden behind the +bushes and trees, waiting to spring out on me. Ugh!" + +"You'd better let me take you in," said her companion tenderly; "the well +isn't always wholesome, especially in the hot weather. + +"Let's make a move." + +The girl gave an obstinate little shake, and settled herself more +securely on her seat. + +"Smoke your cigar in peace," she said quietly. "I am settled here for a +quiet talk. Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?" + +"Nothing." + +"Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn't it?" she continued. "Another +scrape, I suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain; +'Dear Jem, help me out.'" + +Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding his +cigar between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves. + +"I wonder what he would have done without you," said the girl, pressing +his arm affectionately. "Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we are +married, Jem, I shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. He +is very wild, but he has his good points, poor fellow." + +"I never saw them," said Benson, with startling bitterness. "God knows I +never saw them." + +"He is nobody's enemy but his own," said the girl, startled by this +outburst. + +"You don't know much about him," said the other, sharply. "He was not +above blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself a +benefit. A loafer, a cur, and a liar!" + +The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without a +word, and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and the +beams of the moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them with a +silver network. Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly with a +sharp cry she sprang to her feet. + +"What was that?" she cried breathlessly. + +"What was what?" demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast by +the arm. + +She caught her breath and tried to laugh. + +"You're hurting me, Jem." + +His hold relaxed. + +"What is the matter?" he asked gently. + +"What was it startled you?" + +"I was startled," she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder. +"I suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but I +fancied that somebody behind us whispered 'Jem, help me out.'" + +"Fancy," repeated Benson, and his voice shook; "but these fancies are not +good for you. You--are frightened--at the dark and the gloom of these +trees. Let me take you back to the house." + +"No, I'm not frightened," said the girl, reseating herself. "I should +never be really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I'm +surprised at myself for being so silly." + +The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or two +from the well, as though waiting for her to join him. + +"Come and sit down, sir," cried Olive, patting the brickwork with her +small, white hand, "one would think that you did not like your company." + +He obeyed slowly and took a seat by her side, drawing so hard at his +cigar that the light of it shone upon his fare at every breath. He +passed his arm, firm and rigid as steel, behind her, with his hand +resting on the brickwork beyond. + +"Are you warm enough?" he asked tenderly, as she made a little movement. +"Pretty fair," she shivered; "one oughtn't to be cold at this time of the +year, but there's a cold, damp air comes up from the well." + +As she spoke a faint splash sounded from the depths below, and for the +second time that evening, she sprang from the well with a little cry of +dismay. + +"What is it now?" he asked in a fearful voice. He stood by her side and +gazed at the well, as though half expecting to see the cause of her alarm +emerge from it. + +"Oh, my bracelet," she cried in distress, "my poor mother's bracelet. +I've dropped it down the well." + +"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, dully. "Your bracelet? The diamond +one?" + +"The one that was my mother's," said Olive. "Oh, we can get it back +surely. We must have the water drained off." + +"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, stupidly. + +"Jem," said the girl in terrified tones, "dear Jem, what is the matter?" + +For the man she loved was standing regarding her with horror. The moon +which touched it was not responsible for all the whiteness of the +distorted face, and she shrank back in fear to the edge of the well. He +saw her fear and by a mighty effort regained his composure and took her +hand. + +"Poor little girl," he murmured, "you frightened me. I was not looking +when you cried, and I thought that you were slipping from my arms, +down--down--" + +His voice broke, and the girl throwing herself into his arms clung to him +convulsively. + +"There, there," said Benson, fondly, "don't cry, don't cry." + +"To-morrow," said Olive, half-laughing, half-crying, "we will all come +round the well with hook and line and fish for it. It will be quite a +new sport." + +"No, we must try some other way," said Benson. "You shall have it back." + +"How?" asked the girl. + +"You shall see," said Benson. "To-morrow morning at latest you shall +have it back. Till then promise me that you will not mention your loss +to anyone. Promise." + +"I promise," said Olive, wonderingly. "But why not?" + +"It is of great value, for one thing, and--But there--there are many +reasons. For one thing it is my duty to get it for you." + +"Wouldn't you like to jump down for it?" she asked mischievously. +"Listen." + +She stooped for a stone and dropped it down. + +"Fancy being where that is now," she said, peering into the blackness; +"fancy going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at the +slimy sides, with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to the +little patch of sky above." + +"You had better come in," said Benson, very quietly. "You are developing +a taste for the morbid and horrible." + +The girl turned, and taking his arm walked slowly in the direction of the +house; Mrs. Benson, who was sitting in the porch, rose to receive them. + +"You shouldn't have kept her out so long," she said chidingly. "Where +have you been?" + +"Sitting on the well," said Olive, smiling, "discussing our future." + +"I don't believe that place is healthy," said Mrs. Benson, emphatically. +"I really think it might be filled in, Jem." + +"All right," said her son, slowly. "Pity it wasn't filled in long ago." + +He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house with +Olive, and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deep +thought. After a time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which was +set apart for sporting requisites selected a sea fishing line and some +hooks and stole softly downstairs again. He walked swiftly across the +park in the direction of the well, turning before he entered the shadow +of the trees to look back at the lighted windows of the house. Then +having arranged his line he sat on the edge of the well and cautiously +lowered it. + +He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in a +startled fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering at +him from the belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line until at +length in pulling it up he heard a little metallic tinkle against the +side of the well. + +He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inch +by inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly, +and his eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catch +hanging to the hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in. +Then he saw that instead of the bracelet he had hooked a bunch of keys. + +With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, and +stood breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night. +He walked up and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he came +back to the well and resumed his task. + +For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In his +eagerness he forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fished +slowly and carefully. Twice the hook became entangled in something, and +was with difficulty released. It caught a third time, and all his +efforts failed' to free it. Then he dropped the line down the well, +and with head bent walked toward the house. + +He went first to the stables at the rear, and then retiring to his room +for some time paced restlessly up and down. Then without removing his +clothes he flung himself upon the bed and fell into a troubled sleep. + + +III. + +Long before anybody else was astir he arose and stole softly downstairs. +The sunlight was stealing in at every crevice, and flashing in long +streaks across the darkened rooms. The dining-room into which he looked +struck chill and cheerless in the dark yellow light which came through +the lowered blinds. He remembered that it had the same appearance when +his father lay dead in the house; now, as then, everything seemed ghastly +and unreal; the very chairs standing as their occupants had left them the +night before seemed to be indulging in some dark communication of ideas. + +Slowly and noiselessly he opened the hall door and passed into the +fragrant air beyond. The sun was shining on the drenched grass and +trees, and a slowly vanishing white mist rolled like smoke about the +grounds. For a moment he stood, breathing deeply the sweet air of the +morning, and then walked slowly in the direction of the stables. + +The rusty creaking of a pump-handle and a spatter of water upon the +red-tiled courtyard showed that somebody else was astir, and a few steps +farther he beheld a brawny, sandy-haired man gasping wildly under severe +self-infliction at the pump. + +"Everything ready, George?" he asked quietly. + +"Yes, sir," said the man, straightening up suddenly and touching his +forehead. "Bob's just finishing the arrangements inside. It's a lovely +morning for a dip. The water in that well must be just icy." + +"Be as quick as you can," said Benson, impatiently. + +"Very good, sir," said George, burnishing his face harshly with a very +small towel which had been hanging over the top of the pump. "Hurry up, +Bob." + +In answer to his summons a man appeared at the door of the stable with a +coil of stout rope over his arm and a large metal candlestick in his +hand. + +"Just to try the air, sir," said George, following his master's glance, +"a well gets rather foul sometimes, but if a candle can live down it, a +man can." + +His master nodded, and the man, hastily pulling up the neck of his shirt +and thrusting his arms into his coat, followed him as he led the way +slowly to the well. + +"Beg pardon, sir," said George, drawing up to his side, "but you are not +looking over and above well this morning. If you'll let me go down I'd +enjoy the bath." + +"No, no," said Benson, peremptorily. + +"You ain't fit to go down, sir," persisted his follower. "I've never +seen you look so before. Now if--" + +"Mind your business," said his master curtly. + +George became silent and the three walked with swinging strides through +the long wet grass to the well. Bob flung the rope on the ground and at +a sign from his master handed him the candlestick. + +"Here's the line for it, sir," said Bob, fumbling in his pockets. + +Benson took it from him and slowly tied it to the candlestick. Then he +placed it on the edge of the well, and striking a match, lit the candle +and began slowly to lower it. + +"Hold hard, sir," said George, quickly, laying his hand on his arm, "you +must tilt it or the string'll burn through." + +Even as he spoke the string parted and the candlestick fell into the +water below. + +Benson swore quietly. + +"I'll soon get another," said George, starting up. + +"Never mind, the well's all right," said Benson. + +"It won't take a moment, sir," said the other over his shoulder. + +"Are you master here, or am I?" said Benson hoarsely. + +George came back slowly, a glance at his master's face stopping the +protest upon his tongue, and he stood by watching him sulkily as he sat +on the well and removed his outer garments. Both men watched him +curiously, as having completed his preparations he stood grim and silent +with his hands by his sides. + +"I wish you'd let me go, sir," said George, plucking up courage to +address him. "You ain't fit to go, you've got a chill or something. I +shouldn't wonder it's the typhoid. They've got it in the village bad." + +For a moment Benson looked at him angrily, then his gaze softened. "Not +this time, George," he said, quietly. He took the looped end of the rope +and placed it under his arms, and sitting down threw one leg over the +side of the well. + +"How are you going about it, sir?" queried George, laying hold of the +rope and signing to Bob to do the same. + +"I'll call out when I reach the water," said Benson; "then pay out three +yards more quickly so that I can get to the bottom." + +"Very good, sir," answered both. + +Their master threw the other leg over the coping and sat motionless. His +back was turned toward the men as he sat with head bent, looking down the +shaft. He sat for so long that George became uneasy. + +"All right, sir?" he inquired. + +"Yes," said Benson, slowly. "If I tug at the rope, George, pull up at +once. Lower away." + +The rope passed steadily through their hands until a hollow cry from the +darkness below and a faint splashing warned them that he had reached the +water. They gave him three yards more and stood with relaxed grasp and +strained ears, waiting. + +"He's gone under," said Bob in a low voice. + +The other nodded, and moistening his huge palms took a firmer grip of the +rope. + +Fully a minute passed, and the men began to exchange uneasy glances. +Then a sudden tremendous jerk followed by a series of feebler ones nearly +tore the rope from their grasp. + +"Pull!" shouted George, placing one foot on the side and hauling +desperately. "Pull! pull! He's stuck fast; he's not coming; PULL!" + +In response to their terrific exertions the rope came slowly in, inch by +inch, until at length a violent splashing was heard, and at the same +moment a scream of unutterable horror came echoing up the shaft. + +"What a weight he is!" panted Bob. "He's stuck fast or something. +Keep still, sir; for heaven's sake, keep still." + +For the taut rope was being jerked violently by the struggles of the +weight at the end of it. Both men with grunts and sighs hauled it in +foot by foot. + +"All right, sir," cried George, cheerfully. + +He had one foot against the well, and was pulling manfully; the burden +was nearing the top. A long pull and a strong pull, and the face of a +dead man with mud in the eyes and nostrils came peering over the edge. +Behind it was the ghastly face of his master; but this he saw too late, +for with a great cry he let go his hold of the rope and stepped back. +The suddenness overthrew his assistant, and the rope tore through his +hands. There was a frightful splash. + +"You fool!" stammered Bob, and ran to the well helplessly. + +"Run!" cried George. "Run for another line." + +He bent over the coping and called eagerly down as his assistant sped +back to the stables shouting wildly. His voice re-echoed down the shaft, +but all else was silence. + + + + + + +CUPBOARD LOVE + +In the comfortable living-room at Negget's farm, half parlour and half +kitchen, three people sat at tea in the waning light of a November +afternoon. Conversation, which had been brisk, had languished somewhat, +owing to Mrs. Negget glancing at frequent intervals toward the door, +behind which she was convinced the servant was listening, and checking +the finest periods and the most startling suggestions with a warning +_'ssh!_ + +"Go on, uncle," she said, after one of these interruptions. + +"I forget where I was," said Mr. Martin Bodfish, shortly. + +"Under our bed," Mr. Negget reminded him. + +"Yes, watching," said Mrs. Negget, eagerly. + +It was an odd place for an ex-policeman, especially as a small legacy +added to his pension had considerably improved his social position, but +Mr. Bodfish had himself suggested it in the professional hope that the +person who had taken Mrs. Negget's gold brooch might try for further +loot. He had, indeed, suggested baiting the dressing-table with the +farmer's watch, an idea which Mr. Negget had promptly vetoed. + +"I can't help thinking that Mrs. Pottle knows something about it," said +Mrs. Negget, with an indignant glance at her husband. + +"Mrs. Pottle," said the farmer, rising slowly and taking a seat on the +oak settle built in the fireplace, "has been away from the village for +near a fortnit." + +"I didn't say she took it," snapped his wife. "I said I believe she +knows something about it, and so I do. She's a horrid woman. Look at +the way she encouraged her girl Looey to run after that young traveller +from Smithson's. The whole fact of the matter is, it isn't your brooch, +so you don't care." + +"I said--" began Mr. Negget. + +"I know what you said," retorted his wife, sharply, "and I wish you'd be +quiet and not interrupt uncle. Here's my uncle been in the police +twenty-five years, and you won't let him put a word in edgeways.' + +"My way o' looking at it," said the ex-policeman, slowly, "is different +to that o' the law; my idea is, an' always has been, that everybody is +guilty until they've proved their innocence." + +"It's a wonderful thing to me," said Mr. Negget in a low voice to his +pipe, "as they should come to a house with a retired policeman living in +it. Looks to me like somebody that ain't got much respect for the +police." + +The ex-policeman got up from the table, and taking a seat on the settle +opposite the speaker, slowly filled a long clay and took a spill from the +fireplace. His pipe lit, he turned to his niece, and slowly bade her go +over the account of her loss once more. + +"I missed it this morning," said Mrs. Negget, rapidly, "at ten minutes +past twelve o'clock by the clock, and half-past five by my watch which +wants looking to. I'd just put the batch of bread into the oven, and +gone upstairs and opened the box that stands on my drawers to get a +lozenge, and I missed the brooch." + +"Do you keep it in that box?" asked the ex-policeman, slowly. + +"Always," replied his niece. "I at once came down stairs and told Emma +that the brooch had been stolen. I said that I named no names, and +didn't wish to think bad of anybody, and that if I found the brooch back +in the box when I went up stairs again, I should forgive whoever took +it." + +"And what did Emma say?" inquired Mr. Bodfish. + +"Emma said a lot o' things," replied Mrs. Negget, angrily. "I'm sure by +the lot she had to say you'd ha' thought she was the missis and me the +servant. I gave her a month's notice at once, and she went straight up +stairs and sat on her box and cried." + +"Sat on her box?" repeated the ex-constable, impressively. "Oh!" + +"That's what I thought," said his niece, "but it wasn't, because I got +her off at last and searched it through and through. I never saw +anything like her clothes in all my life. There was hardly a button or a +tape on; and as for her stockings--" + +"She don't get much time," said Mr. Negget, slowly. + +"That's right; I thought you'd speak up for her," cried his wife, +shrilly. + +"Look here--" began Mr. Negget, laying his pipe on the seat by his side +and rising slowly. + +"Keep to the case in hand," said the ex-constable, waving him back to his +seat again. "Now, Lizzie." + +"I searched her box through and through," said his niece, "but it wasn't +there; then I came down again and had a rare good cry all to myself." + +"That's the best way for you to have it," remarked Mr. Negget, feelingly. + +Mrs. Negget's uncle instinctively motioned his niece to silence, and +holding his chin in his hand, scowled frightfully in the intensity of +thought. + +"See a cloo?" inquired Mr. Negget, affably. + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, George," said his wife, angrily; +"speaking to uncle when he's looking like that." + +Mr. Bodfish said nothing; it is doubtful whether he even heard these +remarks; but he drew a huge notebook from his pocket, and after vainly +trying to point his pencil by suction, took a knife from the table and +hastily sharpened it. + +"Was the brooch there last night?" he inquired. + +"It were," said Mr. Negget, promptly. "Lizzie made me get up just as the +owd clock were striking twelve to get her a lozenge." + +"It seems pretty certain that the brooch went since then," mused Mr. +Bodfish. + +"It would seem like it to a plain man," said Mr. Negget, guardedly. + +"I should like to see the box," said Mr. Bodfish. + +Mrs. Negget went up and fetched it and stood eyeing him eagerly as he +raised the lid and inspected the contents. It contained only a few +lozenges and some bone studs. Mr. Negget helped himself to a lozenge, +and going back to his seat, breathed peppermint. + +"Properly speaking, that ought not to have been touched," said the +ex-constable, regarding him with some severity. + +"Eh!" said the startled farmer, putting his finger to his lips. + +"Never mind," said the other, shaking his head. "It's too late now." + +"He doesn't care a bit," said Mrs. Negget, somewhat sadly. "He used to +keep buttons in that box with the lozenges until one night he gave me one +by mistake. Yes, you may laugh--I'm glad you can laugh." + +Mr. Negget, feeling that his mirth was certainly ill-timed, shook for +some time in a noble effort to control himself, and despairing at length, +went into the back place to recover. Sounds of blows indicative of Emma +slapping him on the back did not add to Mrs. Negget's serenity. + +"The point is," said the ex-constable, "could anybody have come into your +room while you was asleep and taken it?" + +"No," said Mrs. Negget, decisively. "I'm a very poor sleeper, and I'd +have woke at once, but if a flock of elephants was to come in the room +they wouldn't wake George. He'd sleep through anything." + +"Except her feeling under my piller for her handkerchief," corroborated +Mr. Negget, returning to the sitting-room. + +Mr. Bodfish waved them to silence, and again gave way to deep thought. +Three times he took up his pencil, and laying it down again, sat and +drummed on the table with his fingers. Then he arose, and with bent head +walked slowly round and round the room until he stumbled over a stool. + +"Nobody came to the house this morning, I suppose?" he said at length, +resuming his seat. + +"Only Mrs. Driver," said his niece. + +"What time did she come?" inquired Mr. Bodfish. + +"Here! look here!" interposed Mr. Negget. "I've known Mrs. Driver +thirty year a'most." + +"What time did she come?" repeated the ex-constable, pitilessly. + +His niece shook her head. "It might have been eleven, and again it might +have been earlier," she replied. "I was out when she came." + +"Out!" almost shouted the other. + +Mrs. Negget nodded. + +"She was sitting in here when I came back." + +Her uncle looked up and glanced at the door behind which a small +staircase led to the room above. + +"What was to prevent Mrs. Driver going up there while you were away?" he +demanded. + +"I shouldn't like to think that of Mrs. Driver," said his niece, shaking +her head; "but then in these days one never knows what might happen. +Never. I've given up thinking about it. However, when I came back, Mrs. +Driver was here, sitting in that very chair you are sitting in now." + +Mr. Bodfish pursed up his lips and made another note. Then he took a +spill from the fireplace, and lighting a candle, went slowly and +carefully up the stairs. He found nothing on them but two caked rims of +mud, and being too busy to notice Mr. Negget's frantic signalling, called +his niece's attention to them. + +"What do you think of that?" he demanded, triumphantly. + +"Somebody's been up there," said his niece. "It isn't Emma, because she +hasn't been outside the house all day; and it can't be George, because he +promised me faithful he'd never go up there in his dirty boots." + +Mr. Negget coughed, and approaching the stairs, gazed with the eye of a +stranger at the relics as Mr. Bodfish hotly rebuked a suggestion of his +niece's to sweep them up. + +"Seems to me," said the conscience-stricken Mr. Negget, feebly, "as +they're rather large for a woman." + +"Mud cakes," said Mr. Bodfish, with his most professional manner; "a +small boot would pick up a lot this weather." + +"So it would," said Mr. Negget, and with brazen effrontery not only met +his wife's eye without quailing, but actually glanced down at her boots. + +Mr. Bodfish came back to his chair and ruminated. Then he looked up and +spoke. + +"It was missed this morning at ten minutes past twelve," he said, slowly; +"it was there last night. At eleven o'clock you came in and found Mrs. +Driver sitting in that chair." + +"No, the one you're in," interrupted his niece. + +"It don't signify," said her uncle. "Nobody else has been near the +place, and Emma's box has been searched. + +"Thoroughly searched," testified Mrs. Negget. + +"Now the point is, what did Mrs. Driver come for this morning?" resumed +the ex-constable. "Did she come--" + +He broke off and eyed with dignified surprise a fine piece of wireless +telegraphy between husband and wife. It appeared that Mr. Negget sent +off a humorous message with his left eye, the right being for some reason +closed, to which Mrs. Negget replied with a series of frowns and staccato +shakes of the head, which her husband found easily translatable. Under +the austere stare of Mr. Bodfish their faces at once regained their +wonted calm, and the ex-constable in a somewhat offended manner resumed +his inquiries. + +"Mrs. Driver has been here a good bit lately," he remarked, slowly. + +Mr. Negget's eyes watered, and his mouth worked piteously. + +"If you can't behave yourself, George--began began his wife, fiercely. + +"What is the matter?" demanded Mr. Bodfish. "I'm not aware that I've +said anything to be laughed at." + +"No more you have, uncle," retorted his niece; "only George is such a +stupid. He's got an idea in his silly head that Mrs. Driver--But it's +all nonsense, of course." + +"I've merely got a bit of an idea that it's a wedding-ring, not a brooch, +Mrs. Driver is after," said the farmer to the perplexed constable. + +Mr. Bodfish looked from one to the other. "But you always keep yours on, +Lizzie, don't you?" he asked. + +"Yes, of course," replied his niece, hurriedly; "but George has always +got such strange ideas. Don't take no notice of him." + +Her uncle sat back in his chair, his face still wrinkled perplexedly; +then the wrinkles vanished suddenly, chased away by a huge glow, and he +rose wrathfully and towered over the match-making Mr. Negget. "How dare +you?" he gasped. + +Mr. Negget made no reply, but in a cowardly fashion jerked his thumb +toward his wife. + +"Oh! George! How can you say so?" said the latter. + +"I should never ha' thought of it by myself," said the farmer; "but I +think they'd make a very nice couple, and I'm sure Mrs. Driver thinks +so." + +The ex-constable sat down in wrathful confusion, and taking up his +notebook again, watched over the top of it the silent charges and +countercharges of his niece and her husband. + +"If I put my finger on the culprit," he asked at length, turning to his +niece, "what do you wish done to her?" + +Mrs. Negget regarded him with an expression which contained all the +Christian virtues rolled into one. + +"Nothing," she said, softly. "I only want my brooch back." + +The ex-constable shook his head at this leniency. + +"Well, do as you please," he said, slowly. "In the first place, I want +you to ask Mrs. Driver here to tea to-morrow--oh, I don't mind Negget's +ridiculous ideas--pity he hasn't got something better to think of; if +she's guilty, I'll soon find it out. I'll play with her like a cat with +a mouse. I'll make her convict herself." + +"Look here!" said Mr. Negget, with sudden vigour. "I won't have it. +I won't have no woman asked here to tea to be got at like that. There's +only my friends comes here to tea, and if any friend stole anything o' +mine, I'd be one o' the first to hush it up." + +"If they were all like you, George," said his wife, angrily, "where would +the law be?" + +"Or the police?" demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him. + +"I won't have it!" repeated the farmer, loudly. "I'm the law here, and +I'm the police here. That little tiny bit o' dirt was off my boots, I +dare say. I don't care if it was." + +"Very good," said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; "if he +likes to look at it that way, there's nothing more to be said. I only +wanted to get your brooch back for you, that's all; but if he's against +it--" + +"I'm against your asking Mrs. Driver here to my house to be got at," said +the farmer. + +"O' course if you can find out who took the brooch, and get it back again +anyway, that's another matter." + +Mr. Bodfish leaned over the table toward his niece. + +"If I get an opportunity, I'll search her cottage," he said, in a low +voice. "Strictly speaking, it ain't quite a legal thing to do, o course, +but many o' the finest pieces of detective work have been done by +breaking the law. If she's a kleptomaniac, it's very likely lying about +somewhere in the house." + +He eyed Mr. Negget closely, as though half expecting another outburst, +but none being forthcoming, sat back in his chair again and smoked in +silence, while Mrs. Negget, with a carpet-brush which almost spoke, swept +the pieces of dried mud from the stairs. + +Mr. Negget was the last to go to bed that night, and finishing his pipe +over the dying fire, sat for some time in deep thought. He had from the +first raised objections to the presence of Mr. Bodfish at the farm, but +family affection, coupled with an idea of testamentary benefits, had so +wrought with his wife that he had allowed her to have her own way. Now +he half fancied that he saw a chance of getting rid of him. If he could +only enable the widow to catch him searching her house, it was highly +probable that the ex-constable would find the village somewhat too hot to +hold him. He gave his right leg a congratulatory slap as he thought of +it, and knocking the ashes from his pipe, went slowly up to bed. + +He was so amiable next morning that Mr. Bodfish, who was trying to +explain to Mrs. Negget the difference between theft and kleptomania, +spoke before him freely. The ex-constable defined kleptomania as a sort +of amiable weakness found chiefly among the upper circles, and cited the +case of a lady of title whose love of diamonds, combined with great +hospitality, was a source of much embarrassment to her guests. + +For the whole of that day Mr. Bodfish hung about in the neighbourhood of +the widow's cottage, but in vain, and it would be hard to say whether he +or Mr. Negget, who had been discreetly shadowing him, felt the +disappointment most. On the day following, however, the ex-constable +from a distant hedge saw a friend of the widow's enter the cottage, and +a little later both ladies emerged and walked up the road. + +He watched them turn the corner, and then, with a cautious glance round, +which failed, however, to discover Mr. Negget, the ex-constable strolled +casually in the direction of the cottage, and approaching it from the +rear, turned the handle of the door and slipped in. + +He searched the parlour hastily, and then, after a glance from the +window, ventured up stairs. And he was in the thick of his self-imposed +task when his graceless nephew by marriage, who had met Mrs. Driver and +referred pathetically to a raging thirst which he had hoped to have +quenched with some of her home-brewed, brought the ladies hastily back +again. + +"I'll go round the back way," said the wily Negget as they approached the +cottage. "I just want to have a look at that pig of yours." + +He reached the back door at the same time as Mr. Bodfish, and placing his +legs apart, held it firmly against the frantic efforts of the exconstable. +The struggle ceased suddenly, and the door opened easily just as Mrs. +Driver and her friend appeared in the front room, and the farmer, with a +keen glance at the door of the larder which had just closed, took a chair +while his hostess drew a glass of beer from the barrel in the kitchen. + +Mr. Negget drank gratefully and praised the brew. From beer the +conversation turned naturally to the police, and from the police to the +listening Mr. Bodfish, who was economizing space by sitting on the bread- +pan, and trembling with agitation. + +"He's a lonely man," said Negget, shaking his head and glancing from the +corner of his eye at the door of the larder. In his wildest dreams he +had not imagined so choice a position, and he resolved to give full play +to an idea which suddenly occurred to him. + +"I dare say," said Mrs. Driver, carelessly, conscious that her friend was +watching her. + +"And the heart of a little child," said Negget; "you wouldn't believe how +simple he is." + +Mrs. Clowes said that it did him credit, but, speaking for herself, she +hadn't noticed it. + +"He was talking about you night before last," said Negget, turning to his +hostess; "not that that's anything fresh. He always is talking about you +nowadays." + +The widow coughed confusedly and told him not to be foolish. + +"Ask my wife," said the farmer, impressively; "they were talking about +you for hours. He's a very shy man is my wife's uncle, but you should +see his face change when your name's mentioned." + +As a matter of fact, Mr. Bodfish's face was at that very moment taking on +a deeper shade of crimson. + +"Everything you do seems to interest him," continued the farmer, +disregarding Mrs. Driver's manifest distress; "he was asking Lizzie about +your calling on Monday; how long you stayed, and where you sat; and after +she'd told him, I'm blest if he didn't go and sit in the same chair!" + +This romantic setting to a perfectly casual action on the part of Mr. +Bodfish affected the widow visibly, but its effect on the ex-constable +nearly upset the bread-pan. + +"But here," continued Mr. Negget, with another glance at the larder, "he +might go on like that for years. He's a wunnerful shy man--big, and +gentle, and shy. He wanted Lizzie to ask you to tea yesterday." + +"Now, Mr. Negget," said the blushing widow. "Do be quiet." + +"Fact," replied the farmer; "solemn fact, I assure you. And he asked her +whether you were fond of jewellery." + +"I met him twice in the road near here yesterday," said Mrs. Clowes, +suddenly. "Perhaps he was waiting for you to come out." + +"I dare say," replied the farmer. "I shouldn't wonder but what he's +hanging about somewhere near now, unable to tear himself away." + +Mr. Bodfish wrung his hands, and his thoughts reverted instinctively to +instances in his memory in which charges of murder had been altered by +the direction of a sensible judge to manslaughter. He held his breath +for the next words. + +Mr. Negget drank a little more ale and looked at Mrs. Driver. + +[Illustration: MRS. DRIVER FELL RACK BEORE THE EMERGING FORM OF MR. +BODFISH] + +"I wonder whether you've got a morsel of bread and cheese?" he said, +slowly. "I've come over that hungry--" + +The widow and Mr. Bodfish rose simultaneously. It required not the brain +of a trained detective to know that the cheese was in the larder. The +unconscious Mrs. Driver opened the door, and then with a wild scream fell +back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish into the arms of Mrs. +Clowes. The glass of Mr. Negget smashed on the floor, and the farmer +himself, with every appearance of astonishment, stared at the apparition +open-mouthed. + +"Mr.--Bodfish!" he said at length, slowly. + +Mr. Bodfish, incapable of speech, glared at him ferociously. + +"Leave him alone," said Mrs. Clowes, who was ministering to her friend. +"Can't you see the man's upset at frightening her? She's coming round, +Mr. Bodfish; don't be alarmed." + +"Very good," said the farmer, who found his injured relative's gaze +somewhat trying. "I'll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver why +he was hidden in her larder. It don't seem a proper thing to me." + +"Why, you silly man," said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at the +door, "that don't want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we're giving +you your chance. Mind you make the most of it, and don't be too shy." + +She walked excitedly up the road with the farmer, and bidding him +good-bye at the corner, went off hastily to spread the news. Mr. Negget +walked home soberly, and hardly staying long enough to listen to his +wife's account of the finding of the brooch between the chest of drawers +and the wall, went off to spend the evening with a friend, and ended by +making a night of it. + + + + + + + +IN THE LIBRARY + +The fire had burnt low in the library, for the night was wet and warm. +It was now little more than a grey shell, and looked desolate. Trayton +Burleigh, still hot, rose from his armchair, and turning out one of the +gas-jets, took a cigar from a box on a side-table and resumed his seat +again. + +The apartment, which was on the third floor at the back of the house, was +a combination of library, study, and smoke-room, and was the daily +despair of the old housekeeper who, with the assistance of one servant, +managed the house. It was a bachelor establishment, and had been left to +Trayton Burleigh and James Fletcher by a distant connection of both men +some ten years before. + +Trayton Burleigh sat back in his chair watching the smoke of his cigar +through half-closed eyes. Occasionally he opened them a little wider and +glanced round the comfortable, well-furnished room, or stared with a cold +gleam of hatred at Fletcher as he sat sucking stolidly at his brier pipe. +It was a comfortable room and a valuable house, half of which belonged to +Trayton Burleigh; and yet he was to leave it in the morning and become a +rogue and a wanderer over the face of the earth. James Fletcher had said +so. James Fletcher, with the pipe still between his teeth and speaking +from one corner of his mouth only, had pronounced his sentence. + +"It hasn't occurred to you, I suppose," said Burleigh, speaking suddenly, +"that I might refuse your terms." + +"No," said Fletcher, simply. + +Burleigh took a great mouthful of smoke and let it roll slowly out. + +"I am to go out and leave you in possession?" he continued. "You will +stay here sole proprietor of the house; you will stay at the office sole +owner and representative of the firm? You are a good hand at a deal, +James Fletcher." + +"I am an honest man," said Fletcher, "and to raise sufficient money to +make your defalcations good will not by any means leave me the gainer, as +you very well know." + +"There is no necessity to borrow," began Burleigh, eagerly. "We can pay +the interest easily, and in course of time make the principal good +without a soul being the wiser." + +"That you suggested before," said Fletcher, "and my answer is the same. +I will be no man's confederate in dishonesty; I will raise every penny at +all costs, and save the name of the firm--and yours with it--but I will +never have you darken the office again, or sit in this house after +to-night." + +"You won't," cried Burleigh, starting up in a frenzy of rage. + +"I won't," said Fletcher. "You can choose the alternative: disgrace and +penal servitude. Don't stand over me; you won't frighten me, I can +assure you. Sit down." + +"You have arranged so many things in your kindness," said Burleigh, +slowly, resuming his seat again, "have you arranged how I am to live?" + +"You have two strong hands, and health," replied Fletcher. "I will give +you the two hundred pounds I mentioned, and after that you must look out +for yourself. You can take it now." + +He took a leather case from his breast pocket, and drew out a roll of +notes. Burleigh, watching him calmly, stretched out his hand and took +them from the table. Then he gave way to a sudden access of rage, and +crumpling them in his hand, threw them into a corner of the room. +Fletcher smoked on. + +"Mrs. Marl is out?" said Burleigh, suddenly. + +Fletcher nodded. + +"She will be away the night," he said, slowly; "and Jane too; they have +gone together somewhere, but they will be back at half-past eight in the +morning." + +"You are going to let me have one more breakfast in the old place, then," +said Burleigh. "Half-past eight, half-past----" + +He rose from his chair again. This time Fletcher took his pipe from his +mouth and watched him closely. Burleigh stooped, and picking up the +notes, placed them in his pocket. + +"If I am to be turned adrift, it shall not be to leave you here," he +said, in a thick voice. + +He crossed over and shut the door; as he turned back Fletcher rose from +his chair and stood confronting him. Burleigh put his hand to the wall, +and drawing a small Japanese sword from its sheath of carved ivory, +stepped slowly toward him. + +"I give you one chance, Fletcher," he said, grimly. "You are a man of +your word. Hush this up and let things be as they were before, and you +are safe." + +"Put that down," said Fletcher, sharply. + +"By ---, I mean what I say!" cried the other. + +"I mean what I said!" answered Fletcher. + +He looked round at the last moment for a weapon, then he turned suddenly +at a sharp sudden pain, and saw Burleigh's clenched fist nearly touching +his breast-bone. The hand came away from his breast again, and something +with it. It went a long way off. Trayton Burleigh suddenly went to a +great distance and the room darkened. It got quite dark, and Fletcher, +with an attempt to raise his hands, let them fall to his side instead, +and fell in a heap to the floor. + +He was so still that Burleigh could hardly realize that it was all over, +and stood stupidly waiting for him to rise again. Then he took out his +handkerchief as though to wipe the sword, and thinking better of it, put +it back into his pocket again, and threw the weapon on to the floor. + +The body of Fletcher lay where it had fallen, the white face turned up to +the gas. In life he had been a commonplace-looking man, not to say +vulgar; now Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the +door, until the body was hidden by the table, and relieved from the +sight, he could think more clearly. He looked down carefully and +examined his clothes and his boots. Then he crossed the room again, and +with his face averted, turned out the gas. Something seemed to stir in +the darkness, and with a faint cry he blundered toward the door before he +had realized that it was the clock. It struck twelve. + +[Illustration: BURLEIGH, WITH A FEELING OF NAUSEA, DREW BACK TOWARD THE +DOOOR.] + +He stood at the head of the stairs trying to recover himself; trying to +think. The gas on the landing below, the stairs and the furniture, all +looked so prosaic and familiar that he could not realize what had +occurred. He walked slowly down and turned the light out. The darkness +of the upper part of the house was now almost appalling, and in a sudden +panic he ran down stairs into the lighted hall, and snatching a hat from +the stand, went to the door and walked down to the gate. + +Except for one window the neighbouring houses were in darkness, and the +lamps shone tip a silent street. There was a little rain in the air, and +the muddy road was full of pebbles. He stood at the gate trying to screw +up his courage to enter the house again. Then he noticed a figure coming +slowly up the road and keeping close to the palings. + +The full realization of what he had done broke in upon him when he found +himself turning to fly from the approach of the constable. The wet cape +glistening in the lamplight, the slow, heavy step, made him tremble. +Suppose the thing upstairs was not quite dead and should cry out? +Suppose the constable should think it strange for him to be standing +there and follow him in? He assumed a careless attitude, which did not +feel careless, and as the man passed bade him good-night, and made a +remark as to the weather. + +Ere the sound of the other's footsteps had gone quite out of hearing, +he turned and entered the house again before the sense of companionship +should have quite departed. The first flight of stairs was lighted by +the gas in the hall, and he went up slowly. Then he struck a match and +went up steadily, past the library door, and with firm fingers turned on +the gas in his bedroom and lit it. He opened the window a little way, +and sitting down on his bed, tried to think. + +He had got eight hours. Eight hours and two hundred pounds in small +notes. He opened his safe and took out all the loose cash it contained, +and walking about the room, gathered up and placed in his pockets such +articles of jewellery as he possessed. + +The first horror had now to some extent passed, and was succeeded by the +fear of death. + +With this fear on him he sat down again and tried to think out the first +moves in that game of skill of which his life was the stake. He had +often read of people of hasty temper, evading the police for a time, and +eventually falling into their hands for lack of the most elementary +common sense. He had heard it said that they always made some stupid +blunder, left behind them some damning clue. He took his revolver from a +drawer and saw that it was loaded. If the worst came to the worst, he +would die quickly. + +Eight hours' start; two hundred odd pounds. He would take lodgings at +first in some populous district, and let the hair on his face grow. When +the hue-and-cry had ceased, he would go abroad and start life again. He +would go out of a night and post letters to himself, or better still, +postcards, which his landlady would read. Postcards from cheery friends, +from a sister, from a brother. During the day he would stay in and +write, as became a man who described himself as a journalist. + +Or suppose he went to the sea? Who would look for him in flannels, +bathing and boating with ordinary happy mortals? He sat and pondered. +One might mean life, and the other death. Which? + +His face burned as he thought of the responsibility of the choice. So +many people went to the sea at that time of year that he would surely +pass unnoticed. But at the sea one might meet acquaintances. He got up +and nervously paced the room again. It was not so simple, now that it +meant so much, as he had thought. + +The sharp little clock on the mantel-piece rang out "one," followed +immediately by the deeper note of that in the library. He thought of the +clock, it seemed the only live thing in that room, and shuddered. He +wondered whether the thing lying by the far side of the table heard it. +He wondered---- + +He started and held his breath with fear. Somewhere down stairs a board +creaked loudly, then another. He went to the door, and opening it a +little way, but without looking out, listened. The house was so still +that he could hear the ticking of the old clock in the kitchen below. He +opened the door a little wider and peeped out. As he did so there was a +sudden sharp outcry on the stairs, and he drew back into the room and +stood trembling before he had quite realized that the noise had been made +by the cat. The cry was unmistakable; but what had disturbed it? + +There was silence again, and he drew near the door once more. He became +certain that something was moving stealthily on the stairs. He heard the +boards creak again, and once the rails of the balustrade rattled. The +silence and suspense were frightful. Suppose that the something which +had been Fletcher waited for him in the darkness outside? + +He fought his fears down, and opening the door, determined to see what +was beyond. The light from his room streamed out on to the landing, and +he peered about fearfully. Was it fancy, or did the door of Fletcher's +room opposite close as he looked? Was it fancy, or did the handle of the +door really turn? + +In perfect silence, and watching the door as he moved, to see that +nothing came out and followed him, he proceeded slowly down the dark +stairs. Then his jaw fell, and he turned sick and faint again. The +library door, which he distinctly remembered closing, and which, +moreover, he had seen was closed when he went up stairs to his room, now +stood open some four or five inches. He fancied that there was a +rustling inside, but his brain refused to be certain. Then plainly and +unmistakably he heard a chair pushed against the wall. + +He crept to the door, hoping to pass it before the thing inside became +aware of his presence. Something crept stealthily about the room. With +a sudden impulse he caught the handle of the door, and, closing it +violently, turned the key in the lock, and ran madly down the stairs. + +A fearful cry sounded from the room, and a heavy hand beat upon the +panels of the door. The house rang with the blows, but above them +sounded the loud hoarse cries of human fear. Burleigh, half-way down to +the hall, stopped with his hand on the balustrade and listened. The +beating ceased, and a man's voice cried out loudly for God's sake to let +him out. + +At once Burleigh saw what had happened and what it might mean for him. +He had left the hall door open after his visit to the front, and some +wandering bird of the night had entered the house. No need for him to go +now. No need to hide either from the hangman's rope or the felon's cell. +The fool above had saved him. He turned and ran up stairs again just as +the prisoner in his furious efforts to escape wrenched the handle from +the door. + +"Who's there?" he cried, loudly. + +"Let me out!" cried a frantic voice. "For God's sake, open the door! +There's something here." + +"Stay where you are!" shouted Burleigh, sternly. "Stay where you are! +If you come out, I'll shoot you like a dog!" + +The only response was a smashing blow on the lock of the door. Burleigh +raised his pistol, and aiming at the height of a man's chest, fired +through the panel. + +The report and the crashing of the wood made one noise, succeeded by an +unearthly stillness, then the noise of a window hastily opened. Burleigh +fled hastily down the stairs, and flinging wide the hall door, shouted +loudly for assistance. + +It happened that a sergeant and the constable on the beat had just met in +the road. They came toward the house at a run. Burleigh, with +incoherent explanations, ran up stairs before them, and halted outside +the library door. The prisoner was still inside, still trying to +demolish the lock of the sturdy oaken door. Burleigh tried to turn the +key, but the lock was too damaged to admit of its moving. The sergeant +drew back, and, shoulder foremost, hurled himself at the door and burst +it open. + +He stumbled into the room, followed by the constable, and two shafts of +light from the lanterns at their belts danced round the room. A man +lurking behind the door made a dash for it, and the next instant the +three men were locked together. + +Burleigh, standing in the doorway, looked on coldly, reserving himself +for the scene which was to follow. Except for the stumbling of the men +and the sharp catch of the prisoner's breath, there was no noise. A +helmet fell off and bounced and rolled along the floor. The men fell; +there was a sobbing snarl and a sharp click. A tall figure rose from the +floor; the other, on his knees, still held the man down. The standing +figure felt in his pocket, and, striking a match, lit the gas. + +The light fell on the flushed face and fair beard of the sergeant. He +was bare-headed, and his hair dishevelled. Burleigh entered the room and +gazed eagerly at the half-insensible man on the floor-a short, thick-set +fellow with a white, dirty face and a black moustache. His lip was cut +and bled down his neck. Burleigh glanced furtively at the table. The +cloth had come off in the struggle, and was now in the place where he had +left Fletcher. + +"Hot work, sir," said the sergeant, with a smile. "It's fortunate we +were handy." + +The prisoner raised a heavy head and looked up with unmistakable terror +in his eyes. + +"All right, sir," he said, trembling, as the constable increased the +pressure of his knee. "I 'ain't been in the house ten minutes +altogether. By ---, I've not." + +The sergeant regarded him curiously. + +"It don't signify," he said, slowly; "ten minutes or ten seconds won't +make any difference." + +The man shook and began to whimper. + +"It was 'ere when I come," he said, eagerly; "take that down, sir. I've +only just come, and it was 'ere when I come. I tried to get away then, +but I was locked in." + +"What was?" demanded the sergeant. + +"That," he said, desperately. + +The sergeant, following the direction of the terror-stricken black eyes, +stooped by the table. Then, with a sharp exclamation, he dragged away +the cloth. Burleigh, with a sharp cry of horror, reeled back against the +wall. + +"All right, sir," said the sergeant, catching him; "all right. Turn your +head away." + +He pushed him into a chair, and crossing the room, poured out a glass of +whiskey and brought it to him. The glass rattled against his teeth, but +he drank it greedily, and then groaned faintly. The sergeant waited +patiently. There was no hurry. + +"Who is it, sir?" he asked at length. + +"My friend--Fletcher," said Burleigh, with an effort. "We lived +together." He turned to the prisoner. + +"You damned villain!" + +"He was dead when I come in the room, gentlemen," said the prisoner, +strenuously. "He was on the floor dead, and when I see 'im, I tried to +get out. S' 'elp me he was. You heard me call out, sir. I shouldn't +ha' called out if I'd killed him." + +"All right," said the sergeant, gruffly; "you'd better hold your tongue, +you know." + +"You keep quiet," urged the constable. + +The sergeant knelt down and raised the dead man's head. + +"I 'ad nothing to do with it," repeated the man on the floor. "I 'ad +nothing to do with it. I never thought of such a thing. I've only been +in the place ten minutes; put that down, sir." + +The sergeant groped with his left hand, and picking up the Japanese +sword, held it at him. + +"I've never seen it before," said the prisoner, struggling. + +"It used to hang on the wall," said Burleigh. "He must have snatched it +down. It was on the wall when I left Fletcher a little while ago." + +"How long?" inquired the sergeant. + +"Perhaps an hour, perhaps half an hour," was the reply. "I went to my +bedroom." + +The man on the floor twisted his head and regarded him narrowly. + +"You done it!" he cried, fiercely. "You done it, and you want me to +swing for it." + +"That 'll do," said the indignant constable. + +The sergeant let his burden gently to the floor again. + +"You hold your tongue, you devil!" he said, menacingly. + +He crossed to the table and poured a little spirit into a glass and took +it in his hand. Then he put it down again and crossed to Burleigh. + +"Feeling better, sir?" he asked. + +The other nodded faintly. + +"You won't want this thing any more," said the sergeant. + +He pointed to the pistol which the other still held, and taking it from +him gently, put it into his pocket. + +"You've hurt your wrist, sir," he said, anxiously. + +Burleigh raised one hand sharply, and then the other. + +"This one, I think," said the sergeant. "I saw it just now." + +He took the other's wrists in his hand, and suddenly holding them in the +grip of a vice, whipped out something from his pocket--something hard and +cold, which snapped suddenly on Burleigh's wrists, and held them fast. + +"That's right," said the sergeant; "keep quiet." + +The constable turned round in amaze; Burleigh sprang toward him +furiously. + +"Take these things off!" he choked. "Have you gone mad? Take them +off!" + +"All in good time," said the sergeant. + +"Take them off!" cried Burleigh again. + +For answer the sergeant took him in a powerful grip, and staring steadily +at his white face and gleaming eyes, forced him to the other end of the +room and pushed him into a chair. + +"Collins," he said, sharply. + +"Sir?" said the astonished subordinate. + +"Run to the doctor at the corner hard as you can run!" said the other. +"This man is not dead!" + +As the man left the room the sergeant took up the glass of spirits he had +poured out, and kneeling down by Fletcher again, raised his head and +tried to pour a little down his throat. Burleigh, sitting in his corner, +watched like one in a trance. He saw the constable return with the +breathless surgeon, saw the three men bending over Fletcher, and then saw +the eyes of the dying man open and the lips of the dying man move. He +was conscious that the sergeant made some notes in a pocket-book, and +that all three men eyed him closely. The sergeant stepped toward him and +placed his hand on his shoulder, and obedient to the touch, he arose and +went with him out into the night. + + + + + + +CAPTAIN ROGERS + +A man came slowly over the old stone bridge, and averting his gaze from +the dark river with its silent craft, looked with some satisfaction +toward the feeble lights of the small town on the other side. He walked +with the painful, forced step of one who has already trudged far. His +worsted hose, where they were not darned, were in holes, and his coat and +knee-breeches were rusty with much wear, but he straightened himself as +he reached the end of the bridge and stepped out bravely to the taverns +which stood in a row facing the quay. + +He passed the "Queen Anne"--a mere beershop--without pausing, and after a +glance apiece at the "Royal George" and the "Trusty Anchor," kept on his +way to where the "Golden Key" hung out a gilded emblem. It was the best +house in Riverstone, and patronized by the gentry, but he adjusted his +faded coat, and with a swaggering air entered and walked boldly into the +coffee-room. + +The room was empty, but a bright fire afforded a pleasant change to the +chill October air outside. He drew up a chair, and placing his feet on +the fender, exposed his tattered soles to the blaze, as a waiter who had +just seen him enter the room came and stood aggressively inside the door. + +"Brandy and water," said the stranger; "hot." + +"The coffee-room is for gentlemen staying in the house," said the waiter. + +The stranger took his feet from the fender, and rising slowly, walked +toward him. He was a short man and thin, but there was something so +menacing in his attitude, and something so fearsome in his stony brown +eyes, that the other, despite his disgust for ill-dressed people, moved +back uneasily. + +"Brandy and water, hot," repeated the stranger; "and plenty of it. D'ye +hear?" + +The man turned slowly to depart. + +"Stop!" said the other, imperiously. "What's the name of the landlord +here?" + +"Mullet," said the fellow, sulkily. + +"Send him to me," said the other, resuming his seat; "and hark you, my +friend, more civility, or 'twill be the worse for you." + +He stirred the log on the fire with his foot until a shower of sparks +whirled up the chimney. The door opened, and the landlord, with the +waiter behind him, entered the room, but he still gazed placidly at the +glowing embers. + +"What do you want?" demanded the landlord, in a deep voice. + +The stranger turned a little weazened yellow face and grinned at him +familiarly. + +"Send that fat rascal of yours away," he said, slowly. + +The landlord started at his voice and eyed him closely; then he signed to +the man to withdraw, and closing the door behind him, stood silently +watching his visitor. + +"You didn't expect to see me, Rogers," said the latter. + +"My name's Mullet," said the other, sternly. "What do you want?" + +"Oh, Mullet?" said the other, in surprise. "I'm afraid I've made a +mistake, then. I thought you were my old shipmate, Captain Rogers. It's +a foolish mistake of mine, as I've no doubt Rogers was hanged years ago. +You never had a brother named Rogers, did you?" + +"I say again, what do you want?" demanded the other, advancing upon him. + +"Since you're so good," said the other. "I want new clothes, food, and +lodging of the best, and my pockets filled with money." + +"You had better go and look for all those things, then," said Mullet. +"You won't find them here." + +"Ay!" said the other, rising. "Well, well--There was a hundred guineas +on the head of my old shipmate Rogers some fifteen years ago. I'll see +whether it has been earned yet." + +"If I gave you a hundred guineas," said the innkeeper, repressing his +passion by a mighty effort, "you would not be satisfied." + +"Reads like a book," said the stranger, in tones of pretended delight. +"What a man it is!" + +He fell back as he spoke, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew +forth a long pistol as the innkeeper, a man of huge frame, edged toward +him. + +"Keep your distance," he said, in a sharp, quick voice. + +The innkeeper, in no wise disturbed at the pistol, turned away calmly, +and ringing the bell, ordered some spirits. Then taking a chair, he +motioned to the other to do the same, and they sat in silence until the +staring waiter had left the room again. The stranger raised his glass. + +"My old friend Captain Rogers," he said, solemnly, "and may he never get +his deserts!" + +"From what jail have you come?" inquired Mullet, sternly. + +"'Pon my soul," said the other, "I have been in so many--looking for +Captain Rogers--that I almost forget the last, but I have just tramped +from London, two hundred and eighty odd miles, for the pleasure of seeing +your damned ugly figure-head again; and now I've found it, I'm going to +stay. Give me some money." + +The innkeeper, without a word, drew a little gold and silver from his +pocket, and placing it on the table, pushed it toward him. + +"Enough to go on with," said the other, pocketing it; "in future it is +halves. D'ye hear me? Halves! And I'll stay here and see I get it." + +He sat back in his chair, and meeting the other's hatred with a gaze as +steady as his own, replaced his pistol. + +"A nice snug harbor after our many voyages," he continued. "Shipmates we +were, shipmates we'll be; while Nick Gunn is alive you shall never want +for company. Lord! Do you remember the Dutch brig, and the fat +frightened mate?" + +"I have forgotten it," said the other, still eyeing him steadfastly. +"I have forgotten many things. For fifteen years I have lived a decent, +honest life. Pray God for your own sinful soul, that the devil in me +does not wake again." + +"Fifteen years is a long nap," said Gunn, carelessly; "what a godsend it +'ll be for you to have me by you to remind you of old times! Why, you're +looking smug, man; the honest innkeeper to the life! Gad! who's the +girl?" + +[Illustration: GUNN PLACED A HAND, WHICH LACKED TWO FINGERS ON HIS BREAST +AND BOWED AGAIN.] + +He rose and made a clumsy bow as a girl of eighteen, after a moment's +hesitation at the door, crossed over to the innkeeper. + +"I'm busy, my dear," said the latter, somewhat sternly. + +"Our business," said Gunn, with another bow, "is finished. Is this your +daughter, Rog-- Mullet?" + +"My stepdaughter," was the reply. + +Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast, and bowed +again. + +"One of your father's oldest friends," he said smoothly; "and fallen on +evil days; I'm sure your gentle heart will be pleased to hear that your +good father has requested me--for a time--to make his house my home." + +"Any friend of my father's is welcome to me, sir," said the girl, coldly. +She looked from the innkeeper to his odd-looking guest, and conscious of +something strained in the air, gave him a little bow and quitted the +room. + +"You insist upon staying, then?" said Mullet, after a pause. + +"More than ever," replied Gunn, with a leer toward the door. "Why, you +don't think I'm _afraid,_ Captain? You should know me better than that." + +"Life is sweet," said the other. + +"Ay," assented Gunn, "so sweet that you will share things with me to keep +it." + +"No," said the other, with great calm. "I am man enough to have a better +reason." + +"No psalm singing," said Gunn, coarsely. "And look cheerful, you old +buccaneer. Look as a man should look who has just met an old friend +never to lose him again." + +He eyed his man expectantly and put his hand to his pocket again, but the +innkeeper's face was troubled, and he gazed stolidly at the fire. + +"See what fifteen years' honest, decent life does for us," grinned the +intruder. + +The other made no reply, but rising slowly, walked to the door without a +word. + +"Landlord," cried Gunn, bringing his maimed hand sharply down on the +table. + +The innkeeper turned and regarded him. + +"Send me in some supper," said Gunn; "the best you have, and plenty of +it, and have a room prepared. The best." + +The door closed silently, and was opened a little later by the dubious +George coming in to set a bountiful repast. Gunn, after cursing him for +his slowness and awkwardness, drew his chair to the table and made the +meal of one seldom able to satisfy his hunger. He finished at last, and +after sitting for some time smoking, with his legs sprawled on the +fender, rang for a candle and demanded to be shown to his room. + +His proceedings when he entered it were but a poor compliment to his +host. Not until he had poked and pried into every corner did he close +the door. Then, not content with locking it, he tilted a chair beneath +the handle, and placing his pistol beneath his pillow, fell fast asleep. + +Despite his fatigue he was early astir next morning. Breakfast was laid +for him in the coffee-room, and his brow darkened. He walked into the +hall, and after trying various doors entered a small sitting-room, where +his host and daughter sat at breakfast, and with an easy assurance drew a +chair to the table. The innkeeper helped him without a word, but the +girl's hand shook under his gaze as she passed him some coffee. + +"As soft a bed as ever I slept in," he remarked. + +"I hope that you slept well," said the girl, civilly. + +"Like a child," said Gunn, gravely; "an easy conscience. Eh, Mullet?" + +The innkeeper nodded and went on eating. The other, after another remark +or two, followed his example, glancing occasionally with warm approval at +the beauty of the girl who sat at the head of the table. + +"A sweet girl," he remarked, as she withdrew at the end of the meal; "and +no mother, I presume?" + +"No mother," repeated the other. + +Gunn sighed and shook his head. + +"A sad case, truly," he murmured. "No mother and such a guardian. Poor +soul, if she but knew! Well, we must find her a husband." + +He looked down as he spoke, and catching sight of his rusty clothes and +broken shoes, clapped his hand to his pocket; and with a glance at his +host, sallied out to renew his wardrobe. The innkeeper, with an +inscrutable face, watched him down the quay, then with bent head he +returned to the house and fell to work on his accounts. + +In this work Gunn, returning an hour later, clad from head to foot in new +apparel, offered to assist him. Mullett hesitated, but made no demur; +neither did he join in the ecstasies which his new partner displayed at +the sight of the profits. Gunn put some more gold into his new pockets, +and throwing himself back in a chair, called loudly to George to bring +him some drink. + +In less than a month the intruder was the virtual master of the "Golden +Key." Resistance on the part of the legitimate owner became more and +more feeble, the slightest objection on his part drawing from the +truculent Gunn dark allusions to his past and threats against his future, +which for the sake of his daughter he could not ignore. His health began +to fail, and Joan watched with perplexed terror the growth of a situation +which was in a fair way of becoming unbearable. + +The arrogance of Gunn knew no bounds. The maids learned to tremble at +his polite grin, or his worse freedom, and the men shrank appalled from +his profane wrath. George, after ten years' service, was brutally +dismissed, and refusing to accept dismissal from his hands, appealed to +his master. The innkeeper confirmed it, and with lack-lustre eyes fenced +feebly when his daughter, regardless of Gunn's presence, indignantly +appealed to him. + +"The man was rude to my friend, my dear," he said dispiritedly + +"If he was rude, it was because Mr. Gunn deserved it," said Joan, hotly. + +Gunn laughed uproariously. + +"Gad, my dear, I like you!" he cried, slapping his leg. "You're a girl +of spirit. Now I will make you a fair offer. If you ask for George to +stay, stay he shall, as a favour to your sweet self." + +The girl trembled. + +"Who is master here?" she demanded, turning a full eye on her father. + +Mullet laughed uneasily. + +"This is business," he said, trying to speak lightly, "and women can't +understand it. Gunn is--is valuable to me, and George must go." + +"Unless you plead for him, sweet one?" said Gunn. + +The girl looked at her father again, but he turned his head away and +tapped on the floor with his foot. Then in perplexity, akin to tears, +she walked from the room, carefully drawing her dress aside as Gunn held +the door for her. + +"A fine girl," said Gunn, his thin lips working; "a fine spirit. 'Twill +be pleasant to break it; but she does not know who is master here." + +"She is young yet," said the other, hurriedly. + +"I will soon age her if she looks like that at me again," said Gunn. "By +---, I'll turn out the whole crew into the street, and her with them, an' +I wish it. I'll lie in my bed warm o' nights and think of her huddled on +a doorstep." + +His voice rose and his fists clenched, but he kept his distance and +watched the other warily. The innkeeper's face was contorted and his +brow grew wet. For one moment something peeped out of his eyes; the next +he sat down in his chair again and nervously fingered his chin. + +"I have but to speak," said Gunn, regarding him with much satisfaction, +"and you will hang, and your money go to the Crown. What will become of +her then, think you?" + +The other laughed nervously. + +"'Twould be stopping the golden eggs," he ventured. + +"Don't think too much of that," said Gunn, in a hard voice. "I was never +one to be baulked, as you know." + +"Come, come. Let us be friends," said Mullet; "the girl is young, and +has had her way." + +He looked almost pleadingly at the other, and his voice trembled. Gunn +drew himself up, and regarding him with a satisfied sneer, quitted the +room without a word. + +Affairs at the "Golden Key" grew steadily worse and worse. Gunn +dominated the place, and his vile personality hung over it like a shadow. +Appeals to the innkeeper were in vain; his health was breaking fast, and +he moodily declined to interfere. Gunn appointed servants of his own +choosing-brazen maids and foul-mouthed men. The old patrons ceased to +frequent the "Golden Key," and its bedrooms stood empty. The maids +scarcely deigned to take an order from Joan, and the men spoke to her +familiarly. In the midst of all this the innkeeper, who had complained +once or twice of vertigo, was seized with a fit. + +Joan, flying to him for protection against the brutal advances of Gunn, +found him lying in a heap behind the door of his small office, and in her +fear called loudly for assistance. A little knot of servants collected, +and stood regarding him stupidly. One made a brutal jest. Gunn, +pressing through the throng, turned the senseless body over with his +foot, and cursing vilely, ordered them to carry it upstairs. + +Until the surgeon came, Joan, kneeling by the bed, held on to the +senseless hand as her only protection against the evil faces of Gunn and +his proteges. Gunn himself was taken aback, the innkeeper's death at +that time by no means suiting his aims. + +The surgeon was a man of few words and fewer attainments, but under his +ministrations the innkeeper, after a long interval, rallied. The half- +closed eyes opened, and he looked in a dazed fashion at his surroundings. +Gunn drove the servants away and questioned the man of medicine. The +answers were vague and interspersed with Latin. Freedom from noise and +troubles of all kinds was insisted upon and Joan was installed as nurse, +with a promise of speedy assistance. + +The assistance arrived late in the day in the shape of an elderly woman, +whose Spartan treatment of her patients had helped many along the silent +road. She commenced her reign by punching the sick man's pillows, and +having shaken him into consciousness by this means, gave him a dose of +physic, after first tasting it herself from the bottle. + +After the first rally the innkeeper began to fail slowly. It was seldom +that he understood what was said to him, and pitiful to the beholder to +see in his intervals of consciousness his timid anxiety to earn the good- +will of the all-powerful Gunn. His strength declined until assistance +was needed to turn him in the bed, and his great sinewy hands were +forever trembling and fidgeting on the coverlet. + +Joan, pale with grief and fear, tended him assiduously. Her stepfather's +strength had been a proverb in the town, and many a hasty citizen had +felt the strength of his arm. The increasing lawlessness of the house +filled her with dismay, and the coarse attentions of Gunn became more +persistent than ever. She took her meals in the sick-room, and divided +her time between that and her own. + +Gunn himself was in a dilemma. With Mullet dead, his power was at an end +and his visions of wealth dissipated. He resolved to feather his nest +immediately, and interviewed the surgeon. The surgeon was ominously +reticent, the nurse cheerfully ghoulish. + +"Four days I give him," she said, calmly; "four blessed days, not but +what he might slip away at any moment." + +Gunn let one day of the four pass, and then, choosing a time when Joan +was from the room, entered it for a little quiet conversation. The +innkeeper's eyes were open, and, what was more to the purpose, +intelligent. + +"You're cheating the hangman, after all," snarled Gunn. "I'm off to +swear an information." + +The other, by a great effort, turned his heavy head and fixed his wistful +eyes on him. + +"Mercy!" he whispered. "For her sake--give me--a little time!" + +"To slip your cable, I suppose," quoth Gunn. "Where's your money? +Where's your hoard, you miser?" + +Mullet closed his eyes. He opened them again slowly and strove to think, +while Gunn watched him narrowly. When he spoke, his utterance was thick +and labored. + +"Come to-night," he muttered, slowly. "Give me--time--I will make your +--your fortune. But the nurse-watches." + +"I'll see to her," said Gunn, with a grin. "But tell me now, lest you +die first." + +"You will--let Joan--have a share?" panted the innkeeper. + +"Yes, yes," said Gunn, hastily. + +The innkeeper strove to raise himself in the bed, and then fell back +again exhausted as Joan's step was heard on the stairs. Gunn gave +a savage glance of warning at him, and barring the progress of the girl +at the door, attempted to salute her. Joan came in pale and trembling, +and falling on her knees by the bedside, took her father's hand in hers +and wept over it. The innkeeper gave a faint groan and a shiver ran +through his body. + +It was nearly an hour after midnight that Nick Gunn, kicking off his +shoes, went stealthily out onto the landing. A little light came from +the partly open door of the sick-room, but all else was in blackness. He +moved along and peered in. + +The nurse was siting in a high-backed oak chair by the fire. She had +slipped down in the seat, and her untidy head hung on her bosom. A glass +stood on the small oak table by her side, and a solitary candle on the +high mantel-piece diffused a sickly light. Gunn entered the room, and +finding that the sick man was dozing, shook him roughly. + +The innkeeper opened his eyes and gazed at him blankly. + +"Wake, you fool," said Gunn, shaking him again. + +The other roused and muttered something incoherently. Then he stirred +slightly. + +"The nurse," he whispered. + +"She's safe enow," said Gunn. "I've seen to that." + +He crossed the room lightly, and standing before the unconscious woman, +inspected her closely and raised her in the chair. Her head fell limply +over the arm. + +"Dead?" inquired Mullet, in a fearful whisper. + +"Drugged," said Gunn, shortly. "Now speak up, and be lively." + +The innkeeper's eyes again travelled in the direction of the nurse. + +"The men," he whispered; "the servants." + +"Dead drunk and asleep," said Gunn, biting the words. "The last day +would hardly rouse them. Now will you speak, damn you!" + +"I must--take care--of Joan," said the father. + +Gunn shook his clenched hand at him. + +"My money--is--is--" said the other. "Promise me on--your oath--Joan." + +"Ay, ay," growled Gunn; "how many more times? I'll marry her, and she +shall have what I choose to give her. Speak up, you fool! It's not for +you to make terms. Where is it?" + +He bent over, but Mullet, exhausted with his efforts, had closed his eyes +again, and half turned his head. + +"Where is it, damn you?" said Gunn, from between his teeth. + +Mullet opened his eyes again, glanced fearfully round the room, and +whispered. Gunn, with a stifled oath, bent his ear almost to his mouth, +and the next moment his neck was in the grip of the strongest man in +Riverstone, and an arm like a bar of iron over his back pinned him down +across the bed. + +"You dog!" hissed a fierce voice in his ear. "I've got you--Captain +Rogers at your service, and now you may tell his name to all you can. +Shout it, you spawn of hell. Shout it!" + +He rose in bed, and with a sudden movement flung the other over on his +back. Gunn's eyes were starting from his head, and he writhed +convulsively. + +"I thought you were a sharper man, Gunn," said Rogers, still in the same +hot whisper, as he relaxed his grip a little; "you are too simple, you +hound! When you first threatened me I resolved to kill you. Then you +threatened my daughter. I wish that you had nine lives, that I might +take them all. Keep still!" + +He gave a half-glance over his shoulder at the silent figure of the +nurse, and put his weight on the twisting figure on the bed. + +"You drugged the hag, good Gunn," he continued. "To-morrow morning, +Gunn, they will find you in your room dead, and if one of the scum you +brought into my house be charged with the murder, so much the better. +When I am well they will go. I am already feeling a little bit stronger, +Gunn, as you see, and in a month I hope to be about again." + +He averted his face, and for a time gazed sternly and watchfully at the +door. Then he rose slowly to his feet, and taking the dead man in his +arms, bore him slowly and carefully to his room, and laid him a huddled +heap on the floor. Swiftly and noiselessly he put the dead man's shoes +on and turned his pockets inside out, kicked a rug out of place, and put +a guinea on the floor. Then he stole cautiously down stairs and set a +small door at the back open. A dog barked frantically, and he hurried +back to his room. The nurse still slumbered by the fire. + +She awoke in the morning shivering with the cold, and being jealous of +her reputation, rekindled the fire, and measuring out the dose which the +invalid should have taken, threw it away. On these unconscious +preparations for an alibi Captain Rogers gazed through half-closed lids, +and then turning his grim face to the wall, waited for the inevitable +alarm. + + + + + + +A TIGER'S SKIN + +The travelling sign-painter who was repainting the sign of the +"Cauliflower" was enjoying a well-earned respite from his labours. On +the old table under the shade of the elms mammoth sandwiches and a large +slice of cheese waited in an untied handkerchief until such time as his +thirst should be satisfied. At the other side of the table the oldest +man in Claybury, drawing gently at a long clay pipe, turned a dim and +regretful eye up at the old signboard. + +"I've drunk my beer under it for pretty near seventy years," he said, +with a sigh. "It's a pity it couldn't ha' lasted my time." + +The painter, slowly pushing a wedge of sandwich into his mouth, regarded +him indulgently. + +"It's all through two young gentlemen as was passing through 'ere a month +or two ago," continued the old man; "they told Smith, the landlord, +they'd been looking all over the place for the 'Cauliflower,' and when +Smith showed 'em the sign they said they thought it was the 'George the +Fourth,' and a very good likeness, too." + +The painter laughed and took another look at the old sign; then, with the +nervousness of the true artist, he took a look at his own. One or two +shadows-- + +He flung his legs over the bench and took up his brushes. In ten minutes +the most fervent loyalist would have looked in vain for any resemblance, +and with a sigh at the pitfalls which beset the artist he returned to his +interrupted meal and hailed the house for more beer. + +"There's nobody could mistake your sign for anything but a cauliflower," +said the old man; "it looks good enough to eat." + +The painter smiled and pushed his mug across the table. He was a tender- +hearted man, and once--when painting the sign of the "Sir Wilfrid +Lawson"--knew himself what it was to lack beer. He began to discourse on +art, and spoke somewhat disparagingly of the cauliflower as a subject. +With a shake of his head he spoke of the possibilities of a spotted cow +or a blue lion. + +"Talking of lions," said the ancient, musingly, "I s'pose as you never +'eard tell of the Claybury tiger? It was afore your time in these parts, +I expect." + +The painter admitted his ignorance, and, finding that the allusion had no +reference to an inn, pulled out his pipe and prepared to listen. + +"It's a while ago now," said the old man, slowly, "and the circus the +tiger belonged to was going through Claybury to get to Wickham, when, +just as they was passing Gill's farm, a steam-ingine they 'ad to draw +some o' the vans broke down, and they 'ad to stop while the blacksmith +mended it. That being so, they put up a big tent and 'ad the circus +'ere. + +"I was one o' them as went, and I must say it was worth the money, though +Henry Walker was disappointed at the man who put 'is 'ead in the lion's +mouth. He said that the man frightened the lion first, before 'e did it. + +"It was a great night for Claybury, and for about a week nothing else was +talked of. All the children was playing at being lions and tigers and +such-like, and young Roberts pretty near broke 'is back trying to see if +he could ride horseback standing up. + +"It was about two weeks after the circus 'ad gone when a strange thing +'appened: the big tiger broke loose. Bill Chambers brought the news +first, 'aving read it in the newspaper while 'e was 'aving his tea. He +brought out the paper and showed us, and soon after we 'eard all sorts o' +tales of its doings. + +"At first we thought the tiger was a long way off, and we was rather +amused at it. Frederick Scott laughed 'imself silly a'most up 'ere one +night thinking 'ow surprised a man would be if 'e come 'ome one night and +found the tiger sitting in his armchair eating the baby. It didn't seem +much of a laughing matter to me, and I said so; none of us liked it, and +even Sam Jones, as 'ad got twins for the second time, said 'Shame!' +But Frederick Scott was a man as would laugh at anything. + +"When we 'eard that the tiger 'ad been seen within three miles of +Claybury things began to look serious, and Peter Gubbins said that +something ought to be done, but before we could think of anything to do +something 'appened. + +"We was sitting up 'ere one evening 'aving a mug o' beer and a pipe--same +as I might be now if I'd got any baccy left--and talking about it, when +we 'eard a shout and saw a ragged-looking tramp running toward us as 'ard +as he could run. Every now and then he'd look over 'is shoulder and give +a shout, and then run 'arder than afore. + +"'It's the tiger!' ses Bill Chambers, and afore you could wink a'most he +was inside the house, 'aving first upset Smith and a pot o' beer in the +doorway. + +"Before he could get up, Smith 'ad to wait till we was all in. His +langwidge was awful for a man as 'ad a license to lose, and everybody +shouting 'Tiger!' as they trod on 'im didn't ease 'is mind. He was +inside a'most as soon as the last man, though, and in a flash he 'ad the +door bolted just as the tramp flung 'imself agin it, all out of breath +and sobbing 'is hardest to be let in. + +"'Open the door,' he ses, banging on it. + +"'Go away,' ses Smith. + +"'It's the tiger,' screams the tramp; 'open the door.' + +"'You go away,' ses Smith, 'you're attracting it to my place; run up the +road and draw it off.'" + +"Just at that moment John Biggs, the blacksmith, come in from the +taproom, and as soon as he 'eard wot was the matter 'e took down Smith's +gun from behind the bar and said he was going out to look after the +wimmen and children. + +"'Open the door,' he ses. + +"He was trying to get out and the tramp outside was trying to get in, +but Smith held on to that door like a Briton. Then John Biggs lost 'is +temper, and he ups with the gun--Smith's own gun, mind you--and fetches +'im a bang over the 'ead with it. Smith fell down at once, and afore we +could 'elp ourselves the door was open, the tramp was inside, and John +Biggs was running up the road, shouting 'is hardest. + +"We 'ad the door closed afore you could wink a'most, and then, while the +tramp lay in a corner 'aving brandy, Mrs. Smith got a bowl of water and a +sponge and knelt down bathing 'er husband's 'ead with it. + +"'Did you see the tiger?' ses Bill Chambers. + +"'See it?' ses the tramp, with a shiver. 'Oh, Lord!' + +"He made signs for more brandy, and Henery Walker, wot was acting as +landlord, without being asked, gave it to 'im. + +"'It chased me for over a mile,' ses the tramp; 'my 'eart's breaking.' + +"He gave a groan and fainted right off. A terrible faint it was, too, +and for some time we thought 'ed never come round agin. First they +poured brandy down 'is throat, then gin, and then beer, and still 'e +didn't come round, but lay quiet with 'is eyes closed and a horrible +smile on 'is face. + +"He come round at last, and with nothing stronger than water, which Mrs. +Smith kept pouring into 'is mouth. First thing we noticed was that the +smile went, then 'is eyes opened, and suddenly 'e sat up with a shiver +and gave such a dreadful scream that we thought at first the tiger was on +top of us. + +"Then 'e told us 'ow he was sitting washing 'is shirt in a ditch, when he +'eard a snuffling noise and saw the 'ead of a big tiger sticking through +the hedge the other side. He left 'is shirt and ran, and 'e said that, +fortunately, the tiger stopped to tear the shirt to pieces, else 'is last +hour would 'ave arrived. + +"When 'e 'ad finished Smith went upstairs and looked out of the bedroom +winders, but 'e couldn't see any signs of the tiger, and 'e said no doubt +it 'ad gone down to the village to see wot it could pick up, or p'raps it +'ad eaten John Biggs. + +"However that might be, nobody cared to go outside to see, and after it +got dark we liked going 'ome less than ever. + +"Up to ten o'clock we did very well, and then Smith began to talk about +'is license. He said it was all rubbish being afraid to go 'ome, and +that, at any rate, the tiger couldn't eat more than one of us, and while +'e was doing that there was the chance for the others to get 'ome safe. +Two or three of 'em took a dislike to Smith that night and told 'im so. + +"The end of it was we all slept in the tap-room that night. It seemed +strange at first, but anything was better than going 'ome in the dark, +and we all slept till about four next morning, when we woke up and found +the tramp 'ad gone and left the front door standing wide open. + +"We took a careful look-out, and by-and-by first one started off and then +another to see whether their wives and children 'ad been eaten or not. +Not a soul 'ad been touched, but the wimmen and children was that scared +there was no doing anything with 'em. None o' the children would go to +school, and they sat at 'ome all day with the front winder blocked up +with a mattress to keep the tiger out. + +"Nobody liked going to work, but it 'ad to be done and as Farmer Gill +said that tigers went to sleep all day and only came out toward evening +we was a bit comforted. Not a soul went up to the 'Cauliflower' that +evening for fear of coming 'ome in the dark, but as nothing 'appened that +night we began to 'ope as the tiger 'ad travelled further on. + +"Bob Pretty laughed at the whole thing and said 'e didn't believe there +was a tiger; but nobody minded wot 'e said, Bob Pretty being, as I've +often told people, the black sheep o' Claybury, wot with poaching and, +wot was worse, 'is artfulness. + +"But the very next morning something 'appened that made Bob Pretty look +silly and wish 'e 'adn't talked quite so fast; for at five o'clock +Frederick Scott, going down to feed 'is hins, found as the tiger 'ad been +there afore 'im and 'ad eaten no less than seven of 'em. The side of the +hin-'ouse was all broke in, there was a few feathers lying on the ground, +and two little chicks smashed and dead beside 'em. + +"The way Frederick Scott went on about it you'd 'ardly believe. He said +that Govinment 'ud 'ave to make it up to 'im, and instead o' going to +work 'e put the two little chicks and the feathers into a pudding basin +and walked to Cudford, four miles off, where they 'ad a policeman. + +"He saw the policeman, William White by name, standing at the back door +of the 'Fox and Hounds' public house, throwing a 'andful o' corn to the +landlord's fowls, and the first thing Mr. White ses was, 'it's off my +beat,' he ses. + +"'But you might do it in your spare time, Mr. White,' ses Frederick +Scott. It's very likely that the tiger'll come back to my hin 'ouse for +the rest of 'em, and he'd be very surprised if 'e popped 'is 'ead in and +see you there waiting for 'im.' + +"He'd 'ave reason to be,' ses Policeman White, staring at 'im. + +"'Think of the praise you'd get,' said Frederick Scott, coaxing like. + +"'Look 'ere,' ses Policeman White, 'if you don't take yourself and that +pudding basin off pretty quick, you'll come along o' me, d'ye see? +You've been drinking and you're in a excited state.' + +"He gave Frederick Scott a push and follered 'im along the road, and +every time Frederick stopped to ask 'im wot 'e was doing of 'e gave 'im +another push to show 'im. + +"Frederick Scott told us all about it that evening, and some of the +bravest of us went up to the 'Cauliflower' to talk over wot was to be +done, though we took care to get 'ome while it was quite light. That +night Peter Gubbins's two pigs went. They were two o' the likeliest pigs +I ever seed, and all Peter Gubbins could do was to sit up in bed +shivering and listening to their squeals as the tiger dragged 'em off. +Pretty near all Claybury was round that sty next morning looking at the +broken fence. Some of them looked for the tiger's footmarks, but it was +dry weather and they couldn't see any. Nobody knew whose turn it would +be next, and the most sensible man there, Sam Jones, went straight off +'ome and killed his pig afore 'e went to work. + +"Nobody knew what to do; Farmer Hall said as it was a soldier's job, and +'e drove over to Wickham to tell the police so, but nothing came of it, +and that night at ten minutes to twelve Bill Chambers's pig went. It was +one o' the biggest pigs ever raised in Claybury, but the tiger got it off +as easy as possible. Bill 'ad the bravery to look out of the winder when +'e 'eard the pig squeal, but there was such a awful snarling noise that +'e daresn't move 'and or foot. + +"Dicky Weed's idea was for people with pigs and such-like to keep 'em in +the house of a night, but Peter Gubbins and Bill Chambers both pointed +out that the tiger could break a back door with one blow of 'is paw, and +that if 'e got inside he might take something else instead o' pig. And +they said that it was no worse for other people to lose pigs than wot it +was for them. + +"The odd thing about it was that all this time nobody 'ad ever seen the +tiger except the tramp and people sent their children back to school agin +and felt safe going about in the daytime till little Charlie Gubbins came +running 'ome crying and saying that 'e'd seen it. Next morning a lot +more children see it and was afraid to go to school, and people began to +wonder wot 'ud happen when all the pigs and poultry was eaten. + +"Then Henery Walker see it. We was sitting inside 'ere with scythes, and +pitchforks, and such-like things handy, when we see 'im come in without +'is hat. His eyes were staring and 'is hair was all rumpled. He called +for a pot o' ale and drank it nearly off, and then 'e sat gasping and +'olding the mug between 'is legs and shaking 'is 'ead at the floor till +everybody 'ad left off talking to look at 'im. + +"'Wot's the matter, Henery?' ses one of 'em. + +"'Don't ask me,' ses Henery Walker, with a shiver. + +"'You don't mean to say as 'ow you've seen the tiger?" ses Bill +Chambers. + +"Henery Walker didn't answer 'im. He got up and walked back'ards and +for'ards, still with that frightened look in 'is eyes, and once or twice +'e give such a terrible start that 'e frightened us 'arf out of our wits. +Then Bill Chambers took and forced 'im into a chair and give 'im two o' +gin and patted 'im on the back, and at last Henery Walker got 'is senses +back agin and told us 'ow the tiger 'ad chased 'im all round and round +the trees in Plashett's Wood until 'e managed to climb up a tree and +escape it. He said the tiger 'ad kept 'im there for over an hour, and +then suddenly turned round and bolted off up the road to Wickham. + +"It was a merciful escape, and everybody said so except Sam Jones, and 'e +asked so many questions that at last Henery Walker asked 'im outright if +'e disbelieved 'is word. + +"'It's all right, Sam,' ses Bob Pretty, as 'ad come in just after Henery +Walker. 'I see 'im with the tiger after 'im.' + +"'Wot?' ses Henery, staring at him. + +"'I see it all, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'and I see your pluck. It was +all you could do to make up your mind to run from it. I believe if you'd +'ad a fork in your 'and you'd 'ave made a fight for it." + +"Everybody said 'Bravo!'; but Henery Walker didn't seem to like it at +all. He sat still, looking at Bob Pretty, and at last 'e ses, 'Where was +you?' 'e s,es. + +"'Up another tree, Henery, where you couldn't see me,' ses Bob Pretty, +smiling at 'im. + +"Henery Walker, wot was drinking some beer, choked a bit, and then 'e put +the mug down and went straight off 'ome without saying a word to anybody. +I knew 'e didn't like Bob Pretty, but I couldn't see why 'e should be +cross about 'is speaking up for 'im as 'e had done, but Bob said as it +was 'is modesty, and 'e thought more of 'im for it. + +"After that things got worse than ever; the wimmen and children stayed +indoors and kept the doors shut, and the men never knew when they went +out to work whether they'd come 'ome agin. They used to kiss their +children afore they went out of a morning, and their wives too, some of +'em; even men who'd been married for years did. And several more of 'em +see the tiger while they was at work, and came running 'ome to tell about +it. + +"The tiger 'ad been making free with Claybury pigs and such-like for +pretty near a week, and nothing 'ad been done to try and catch it, and +wot made Claybury men madder than anything else was folks at Wickham +saying it was all a mistake, and the tiger 'adn't escaped at all. Even +parson, who'd been away for a holiday, said so, and Henery Walker told +'is wife that if she ever set foot inside the church agin 'ed ask 'is old +mother to come and live with 'em. + +"It was all very well for parson to talk, but the very night he come back +Henery Walker's pig went, and at the same time George Kettle lost five or +six ducks. + +"He was a quiet man, was George, but when 'is temper was up 'e didn't +care for anything. Afore he came to Claybury 'e 'ad been in the Militia, +and that evening at the 'Cauliflower' 'e turned up with a gun over 'is +shoulder and made a speech, and asked who was game to go with 'im and +hunt the tiger. Bill Chambers, who was still grieving after 'is pig, +said 'e would, then another man offered, until at last there was +seventeen of 'em. Some of 'em 'ad scythes and some pitchforks, and one +or two of 'em guns, and it was one o' the finest sights I ever seed when +George Kettle stood 'em in rows of four and marched 'em off. + +"They went straight up the road, then across Farmer Gill's fields to get +to Plashett's wood, where they thought the tiger 'ud most likely be, and +the nearer they got to the wood the slower they walked. The sun 'ad just +gone down and the wood looked very quiet and dark, but John Biggs, the +blacksmith, and George Kettle walked in first and the others follered, +keeping so close together that Sam Jones 'ad a few words over his +shoulder with Bill Chambers about the way 'e was carrying 'is pitchfork. + +"Every now and then somebody 'ud say, _'Wot's that!'_ and they'd all stop +and crowd together and think the time 'ad come, but it 'adn't, and then +they'd go on agin, trembling, until they'd walked all round the wood +without seeing anything but one or two rabbits. John Biggs and George +Kettle wanted for to stay there till it was dark, but the others wouldn't +'ear of it for fear of frightening their wives, and just as it was +getting dark they all come tramp, tramp, back to the 'Cauliflower' agin. + +"Smith stood 'em 'arf a pint apiece, and they was all outside 'ere +fancying theirselves a bit for wot they'd done when we see old man +Parsley coming along on two sticks as fast as 'e could come. + +"'Are you brave lads a-looking for the tiger?' he asks. + +"'Yes,' ses John Biggs. + +"'Then 'urry up, for the sake of mercy,' ses old Mr. Parsley, putting 'is +'and on the table and going off into a fit of coughing; 'it's just gone +into Bob Pretty's cottage. I was passing and saw it.' + +"George Kettle snatches up 'is gun and shouts out to 'is men to come +along. Some of 'em was for 'anging back at first, some because they +didn't like the tiger and some because they didn't like Bob Pretty, but +John Biggs drove 'em in front of 'im like a flock o' sheep and then they +gave a cheer and ran after George Kettle, full pelt up the road. + +"A few wimmen and children was at their doors as they passed, but they +took fright and went indoors screaming. There was a lamp in Bob Pretty's +front room, but the door was closed and the 'ouse was silent as the +grave. + +"George Kettle and the men with the guns went first, then came the +pitchforks, and last of all the scythes. Just as George Kettle put 'is +'and on the door he 'eard something moving inside, and the next moment +the door opened and there stood Bob Pretty. + +"'What the dickens!' 'e ses, starting back as 'e see the guns and +pitchforks pointing at 'im. + +"''Ave you killed it, Bob?' ses George Kettle. + +"'Killed _wot?'_ ses Bob Pretty. 'Be careful o' them guns. Take your +fingers off the triggers.' + +"'The tiger's in your 'ouse, Bob,' ses George Kettle, in a whisper. +''Ave you on'y just come in?' + +"'Look 'ere,' ses Bob Pretty. 'I don't want any o' your games. You go +and play 'em somewhere else.' + +"'It ain't a game,' ses John Biggs; 'the tiger's in your 'ouse and we're +going to kill it. Now, then, lads.' + +"They all went in in a 'eap, pushing Bob Pretty in front of 'em, till the +room was full. Only one man with a scythe got in, and they wouldn't 'ave +let 'im in if they'd known. It a'most made 'em forget the tiger for the +time. + +"George Kettle opened the door wot led into the kitchen, and then 'e +sprang back with such a shout that the man with the scythe tried to +escape, taking Henery Walker along with 'im. George Kettle tried to +speak, but couldn't. All 'e could do was to point with 'is finger at Bob +Pretty's kitchen--_and Bob Pretty's kitchen was for all the world like a +pork-butcher's shop_. There was joints o' pork 'anging from the ceiling, +two brine tubs as full as they could be, and quite a string of fowls and +ducks all ready for market. + +"'Wot d'ye mean by coming into my 'ouse?' ses Bob Pretty, blustering. +'If you don't clear out pretty quick, I'll make you.' + +"Nobody answered 'im; they was all examining 'ands o' pork and fowls and +such-like. + +"'There's the tiger,' ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; 'that's +wot old man Parsley meant.' + +"'Somebody go and fetch Policeman White,' ses a voice. + +"'I wish they would,' ses Bob Pretty. 'I'll 'ave the law on you all for +breaking into my 'ouse like this, see if I don't.' + +"'Where'd you get all this pork from?' ses the blacksmith. + +"'And them ducks and hins?' ses George Kettle. + +"'That's my bisness,' ses Bob Pretty, staring 'em full in the face. 'I +just 'ad a excellent oppertunity offered me of going into the pork and +poultry line and I took it. Now, all them as doesn't want to buy any +pork or fowls go out o' my house.' + +"'You're a thief, Bob Pretty!' says Henery Walker. 'You stole it all.' + +"'Take care wot you're saying, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'else I'll make +you prove your words.' + +"'You stole my pig,' ses Herbert Smith. + +"'Oh, 'ave I?' ses Bob, reaching down a 'and o' pork. 'Is that your +pig?' he ses. + +"'It's just about the size o' my pore pig,' ses Herbert Smith. + +"'Very usual size, I call it,' ses Bob Pretty; 'and them ducks and hins +very usual-looking hins and ducks, I call 'em, except that they don't +grow 'em so fat in these parts. It's a fine thing when a man's doing a +honest bisness to 'ave these charges brought agin 'im. Dis'eartening, I +call it. I don't mind telling you that the tiger got in at my back +winder the other night and took arf a pound o' sausage, but you don't +'ear me complaining and going about calling other people thieves.' + +"'Tiger be hanged,' ses Henery Walker, who was almost certain that a loin +o' pork on the table was off 'is pig; 'you're the only tiger in these +parts.' + +"Why, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'wot are you a-thinkin' of? Where's your +memory? Why, it's on'y two or three days ago you see it and 'ad to get +up a tree out of its way.' + +"He smiled and shook 'is 'ead at 'im, but Henery Walker on'y kept opening +and shutting 'is mouth, and at last 'e went outside without saying a +word. + +"'And Sam Jones see it, too,' ses Bob Pretty; 'didn't you, Sam?' + +"Sam didn't answer 'im. + +"'And Charlie Hall and Jack Minns and a lot more,' ses Bob; 'besides, I +see it myself. I can believe my own eyes, I s'pose?' + +"'We'll have the law on you,' ses Sam Jones. + +"'As you like,' ses Bob Pretty; 'but I tell you plain, I've got all the +bills for this properly made out, upstairs. And there's pretty near a +dozen of you as'll 'ave to go in the box and swear as you saw the tiger. +Now, can I sell any of you a bit o' pork afore you go? It's delicious +eating, and as soon as you taste it you'll know it wasn't grown in +Claybury. Or a pair o' ducks wot 'ave come from two 'undered miles off, +and yet look as fresh as if they was on'y killed last night.' + +"George Kettle, whose ducks 'ad gone the night afore, went into the front +room and walked up and down fighting for 'is breath, but it was all no +good; nobody ever got the better o' Bob Pretty. None of 'em could swear +to their property, and even when it became known a month later that Bob +Pretty and the tramp knew each other, nothing was done. But nobody ever +'eard any more of the tiger from that day to this." + + + + + + +A MIXED PROPOSAL + +Major Brill, late of the Fenshire Volununteers, stood in front of the +small piece of glass in the hatstand, and with a firm and experienced +hand gave his new silk hat a slight tilt over the right eye. Then he +took his cane and a new pair of gloves, and with a military but squeaky +tread, passed out into the road. It was a glorious day in early autumn, +and the soft English landscape was looking its best, but despite the fact +that there was nothing more alarming in sight than a few cows on the +hillside a mile away, the Major paused at his gate, and his face took on +an appearance of the greatest courage and resolution before proceeding. +The road was dusty and quiet, except for the children playing at cottage +doors, and so hot that the Major, heedless of the fact that he could not +replace the hat at exactly the same angle, stood in the shade of a tree +while he removed it and mopped his heated brow. + +He proceeded on his way more leisurely, overtaking, despite his lack of +speed, another man who was walking still more slowly in the shade of the +hedge. + +"Fine day, Halibut," he said, briskly; "fine day." + +"Beautiful," said the other, making no attempt to keep pace with him. + +"Country wants rain, though," cried the Major over his shoulder. + +Halibut assented, and walking slowly on, wondered vaguely what gaudy +color it was that had attracted his eye. It dawned on him at length that +it must be the Major's tie, and he suddenly quickened his pace, by no +means reassured as the man of war also quickened his. + +"Halloa, Brill!" he cried. "Half a moment." + +The Major stopped and waited for his friend; Halibut eyed the tie +uneasily--it was fearfully and wonderfully made--but said nothing. + +"Well?" said the Major, somewhat sharply. + +"Oh--I was going to ask you, Brill--Confound it! I've forgotten what I +was going to say now. I daresay I shall soon think of it. You're not in +a hurry?" + +"Well, I am, rather," said Brill. "Fact is-- Is my hat on straight, +Halibut?" + +The other assuring him that it was, the Major paused in his career, and +gripping the brim with both hands, deliberately tilted it over the right +eye again. + +"You were saying--" said Halibut, regarding this manoeuvre with secret +disapproval. + +"Yes," murmured the Major, "I was saying. Well, I don't mind telling an +old friend like you, Halibut, though it is a profound secret. Makes me +rather particular about my dress just now. Women notice these things. +I'm--sha'nt get much sympathy from a confirmed old bachelor like you--but +I'm on my way to put a very momentous question." + +"The devil you are!" said the other, blankly. + +"Sir!" said the astonished Major. + +"Not Mrs. Riddel?" said Halibut. + +"Certainly, sir," said the Major, stiffly. "Why not?" + +"Only that I am going on the same errand," said the confirmed bachelor, +with desperate calmness. + +The Major looked at him, and for the first time noticed an unusual +neatness and dressiness in his friend's attire. His collar was higher +than usual; his tie, of the whitest and finest silk, bore a pin he never +remembered to have seen before; and for the first time since he had known +him, the Major, with a strange sinking at the heart, saw that he wore +spats. + +"This is extraordinary," he said, briefly. "Well, good-day, Halibut. +Can't stop." + +"Good-day," said the other. + +The Major quickened his pace and shot ahead, and keeping in the shade of +the hedge, ground his teeth as the civilian on the other side of the road +slowly, but surely, gained on him. + +It became exciting. The Major was handicapped by his upright bearing and +short military stride; the other, a simple child of the city, bent +forward, swinging his arms and taking immense strides. At a by-lane they +picked up three small boys, who, trotting in their rear, made it evident +by their remarks that they considered themselves the privileged +spectators of a foot-race. The Major could stand it no longer, and with +a cut of his cane at the foremost boy, softly called a halt. + +"Well," said Halibut, stopping. + +The man's manner was suspicious, not to say offensive, and the other had +much ado to speak him fair. + +"This is ridiculous," he said, trying to smile. "We can't walk in and +propose in a duet. One of us must go to-day and the other to-morrow." + +"Certainly," said Halibut; "that'll be the best plan." + +"So childish," said the Major, with a careless laugh, "two fellows +walking in hot and tired and proposing to her." + +"Absurd," replied Halibut, and both men eyed each other carefully. + +"So, if I'm unsuccessful, old chap," said the Major, in a voice which he +strove to render natural and easy, "I will come straight back to your +place and let you know, so as not to keep you in suspense." + +"You're very good," said Halibut, with some emotion; "but I think I'll +take to-day, because I have every reason to believe that I have got one +of my bilious attacks coming on to-morrow." + +"Pooh! fancy, my dear fellow," said the Major, heartily; "I never saw you +look better in my life." + +"That's one of the chief signs," replied Halibut, shaking his head. "I'm +afraid I must go to-day." + +"I really cannot waive my right on account of your bilious attack," said +the Major haughtily. + +"Your right?" said Halibut, with spirit. + +"My right!" repeated the other. "I should have been there before you if +you had not stopped me in the first place." + +"But I started first," said Halibut. + +"Prove it," exclaimed the Major, warmly. + +The other shrugged his shoulders. + +"I shall certainly not give way," he said, calmly. "This is a matter in +which my whole future is concerned. It seems very odd, not to say +inconvenient, that you should have chosen the same day as myself, Brill, +for such an errand--very odd." + +"It's quite an accident," asseverated the Major; "as a matter of fact, +Halibut, I nearly went yesterday. That alone gives me, I think, some +claim to precedence." + +"Just so," said Halibut, slowly; "it constitutes an excellent claim." + +The Major regarded him with moistening eyes. This was generous and +noble. His opinion of Halibut rose. "And now you have been so frank +with me," said the latter, "it is only fair that you should know I +started out with the same intention three days ago and found her out. +So far as claims go, I think mine leads." + +"Pure matter of opinion," said the disgusted Major; "it really seems as +though we want an arbitrator. Well, we'll have to make our call +together, I suppose, but I'll take care not to give you any opportunity, +Halibut, so don't cherish any delusions on that point. Even you wouldn't +have the hardihood to propose before a third party, I should think; but +if you do, I give you fair warning that I shall begin, too." + +"This is most unseemly," said Halibut. "We'd better both go home and +leave it for another day." + +"When do you propose going, then?" asked the Major. + +"Really, I haven't made up my mind," replied the other. + +The Major shrugged his shoulders. + +"It won't do, Halibut," he said, grimly; "it won't do. I'm too old a +soldier to be caught that way." + +There was a long pause. The Major mopped his brow again. "I've got it," +he said at last. + +Halibut looked at him curiously. + +"We must play for first proposal," said the Major, firmly. "We're pretty +evenly matched." + +"Chess?" gasped the other, a whole world of protest in his tones. + +"Chess," repeated the Major. + +"It is hardly respectful," demurred Halibut. "What do you think the lady +would do if she heard of it?" + +"Laugh," replied the Major, with conviction. + +"I believe she would," said the other, brightening. "I believe she +would." + +"You agree, then?" + +"With conditions." + +"Conditions?" repeated the Major. + +"One game," said Halibut, speaking very slowly and distinctly; "and if +the winner is refused, the loser not to propose until he gives him +permission." + +"What the deuce for?" inquired the other, suspiciously. + +"Suppose I win," replied Halibut, with suspicious glibness, "and was so +upset that I had one of my bilious attacks come on, where should I be? +Why, I might have to break off in the middle and go home. A fellow can't +propose when everything in the room is going round and round." + +"I don't think you ought to contemplate marriage, Halibut," remarked the +Major, very seriously and gently. + +"Thanks," said Halibut, dryly. + +"Very well," said the Major, "I agree to the conditions. Better come to +my place and we'll decide it now. If we look sharp, the winner may be +able to know his fate to-day, after all." + +Halibut assenting, they walked back together. The feverish joy of the +gambler showed in the Major's eye as they drew their chairs up to the +little antique chess table and began to place their pieces ready for the +fray. Then a thought struck him, and he crossed over to the sideboard. + +"If you're feeling a bit off colour, Halibut," he said, kindly, "you'd +better have a little brandy to pull yourself together. I don't wish to +take a mean advantage." + +"You're very good," said the other, as he eyed the noble measure of +liquid poured out by his generous adversary. + +"And now to business," said the Major, as he drew himself a little soda +from a siphon. + +"Now to business," repeated Halibut, rising and placing his glass on the +mantel-piece. + +The Major struggled fiercely with his feelings, but, despite himself, a +guilty blush lent colour to the other's unfounded suspicions. + +"Remember the conditions," said Halibut, impressively. + +"Here's my hand on it," said the other, reaching over. + +Halibut took it, and, his thoughts being at the moment far away, gave it +a tender, respectful squeeze. The Major stared and coughed. It was +suggestive of practice. + +If the history of the duel is ever written, it will be found not unworthy +of being reckoned with the most famous combats of ancient times. Piece +after piece was removed from the board, and the Major drank glass after +glass of soda to cool his heated brain. At the second glass Halibut took +an empty tumbler and helped himself. Suddenly there was a singing in the +Major's ears, and a voice, a hateful, triumphant voice, said, + +"Checkmate!" + +Then did his gaze wander from knight to bishop and bishop to castle in a +vain search for succour. There was his king defied by a bishop--a bishop +which had been hobnobbing with pawns in one corner of the board, and +which he could have sworn he had captured and removed full twenty minutes +before. He mentioned this impression to Halibut. + +"That was the other one," said his foe. "I thought you had forgotten +this. I have been watching and hoping so for the last half-hour." + +There was no disguising the coarse satisfaction of the man. He had +watched and hoped. Not beaten him, so the Major told himself, in fair +play, but by taking a mean and pitiful advantage of a pure oversight. A +sheer oversight. He admitted it. + +Halibut rose with a sigh of relief, and the Major, mechanically sweeping +up the pieces, dropped them one by one into the box. + +"Plenty of time," said the victor, glancing at the clock. "I shall go +now, but I should like a wash first." + +The Major rose, and in his capacity of host led the way upstairs to his +room, and poured fresh water for his foe. Halibut washed himself +delicately, carefully trimming his hair and beard, and anxiously +consulting the Major as to the set of his coat in the back, after +he had donned it again. + +His toilet completed, he gave a satisfied glance in the glass, and then +followed the man of war sedately down stairs. At the hall he paused, and +busied himself with the clothes-brush and hat-pad, modestly informing his +glaring friend that he could not afford to throw any chances away, and +then took his departure. + +The Major sat up late that night waiting for news, but none came, and by +breakfast-time next morning his thirst for information became almost +uncontrollable. He toyed with a chop and allowed his coffee to get cold. +Then he clapped on his hat and set off to Halibut's to know the worst. + +"Well?" he inquired, as he followed the other into his dining-room. + +"I went," said Halibut, waving him to a chair. + +"Am I to congratulate you?" + +"Well, I don't know," was the reply; "perhaps not just yet." + +"What do you mean by that?" said the Major, irascibly. + +"Well, as a matter of fact," said Halibut, "she refused me, but so nicely +and so gently that I scarcely minded it. In fact, at first I hardly +realized that she had refused me." + +The Major rose, and regarding his poor friend kindly, shook and patted +him lightly on the shoulder. + +"She's a splendid woman," said Halibut. "Ornament to her sex," remarked +the Major. + +"So considerate," murmured the bereaved one. + +"Good women always are," said the Major, decisively. "I don't think I'd +better worry her to-day, Halibut, do you?" + +"No, I don't," said Halibut, stiffly. + +"I'll try my luck to-morrow," said the Major. + +"I beg your pardon," said Halibut. + +"Eh?" said the Major, trying to look puzzled. + +"You are forgetting the conditions of the game," replied Halibut. "You +have to obtain my permission first." + +"Why, my dear fellow," said the Major, with a boisterous laugh. +"I wouldn't insult you by questioning your generosity in such a case. +No, no, Halibut, old fellow, I know you too well." + +He spoke with feeling, but there was an anxious note in his voice. + +"We must abide by the conditions," said Halibut, slowly; "and I must +inform you, Brill, that I intend to renew the attack myself." + +"Then, sir," said the Major, fuming, "you compel me to say--putting all +modesty aside--that I believe the reason Mrs. Riddel would have nothing +to do with you was because she thought somebody else might make a similar +offer." + +"That's what I thought," said Halibut, simply; "but you see now that you +have so unaccountably--so far as Mrs. Riddel is concerned--dropped out of +the running, perhaps, if I am gently persistent, she'll take me." + +The Major rose and glared at him. + +"If you don't take care, old chap," said Halibut, tenderly, "you'll burst +something." + +"Gently persistent," repeated the Major, staring at him; "gently +persistent." + +"Remember Bruce and his spider," smiled the other. + +"You are not going to propose to that poor woman nine times?" roared his +incensed friend. + +"I hope that it will not be necessary," was the reply; "but if it is, I +can assure you, my dear Brill, that I'm not going to be outclassed by a +mere spider." + +"But think of her feelings!" gasped the Major. + +"I have," was the reply; "and I'm sure she'll thank me for it afterward. +You see, Brill, you and I are the only eligibles in the place, and now +you are out of it, she's sure to take me sooner or later." + +"And pray how long am I to wait?" demanded the Major, controlling +himself with difficulty. + +"I can't say," said Halibut; "but I don't think it's any good your +waiting at all, because if I see any signs that Mrs. Riddel is waiting +for you I may just give her a hint of the hopelessness of it." + +"You're a perfect Mephistopheles, sir!" bawled the indignant Major. +Halibut bowed. + +"Strategy, my dear Brill," he said, smiling; "strategy. Now why waste +your time? Why not make some other woman happy? Why not try her +companion, Miss Philpotts? I'm sure any little assistance--" + +The Major's attitude was so alarming that the sentence was never +finished, and a second later the speaker found himself alone, watching +his irate friend hurrying frantically down the path, knocking the blooms +off the geraniums with his cane as he went. He saw no more of him for +several weeks, the Major preferring to cherish his resentment in the +privacy of his house. The Major also refrained from seeing the widow, +having a wholesome dread as to what effect the contemplation of her +charms might have upon his plighted word. + +He met her at last by chance. Mrs. Riddel bowed coldly and would have +passed on, but the Major had already stopped, and was making wild and +unmerited statements about the weather. + +"It is seasonable," she said, simply. + +The Major agreed with her, and with a strong-effort regained his +composure. + +"I was just going to turn back," he said, untruthfully; "may I walk with +you?" + +"I am not going far," was the reply. + +With soldierly courage the Major took this as permission; with feminine +precision Mrs. Riddel walked about fifty yards and then stopped. "I told +you I wasn't going far," she said sweetly, as she held out her hand. +"Goodby." + +"I wanted to ask you something," said the Major, turning with her. "I +can't think what it was." + +They walked on very slowly, the Major's heart beating rapidly as he told +himself that the lady's coldness was due to his neglect of the past few +weeks, and his wrath against Halibut rose to still greater heights as he +saw the cruel position in which that schemer had placed him. Then he +made a sudden resolution. There was no condition as to secrecy, and, +first turning the conversation on to indoor amusements, he told the +astonished Mrs. Riddel the full particulars of the fatal game. Mrs. +Riddel said that she would never forgive them; it was the most +preposterous thing she had ever heard of. And she demanded hotly whether +she was to spend the rest of her life in refusing Mr. Halibut. + +"Do you play high as a rule?" she inquired, scornfully. + +"Sixpence a game," replied the Major, simply. + +The corners of Mrs. Riddel's mouth relaxed, and her fine eyes began to +water; then she turned her head away and laughed. "It was very foolish +of us, I admit," said the Major, ruefully, "and very wrong. I shouldn't +have told you, only I couldn't explain my apparent neglect without." + +"Apparent neglect?" repeated the widow, somewhat haughtily. + +"Well, put it down to a guilty conscience," said the Major; "it seems +years to me since I have seen you." + +"Remember the conditions, Major Brill," said Mrs. Riddel, with severity. + +"I shall not transgress them," replied the Major, seriously. + +Mrs. Riddel gave her head a toss, and regarded him from the corner of her +eyes. + +"I am very angry with you, indeed," she said, severely. The Major +apologized again. "For losing," added the lady, looking straight before +her. + +Major Brill caught his breath and his knees trembled beneath him. He +made a half-hearted attempt to seize her hand, and then remembering his +position, sighed deeply and looked straight before him. They walked on +in silence. + +"I think," said his companion at last, "that, if you like, you can get +back at cribbage what you lost at chess. That is, of course, if you +really want to." + +"He wouldn't play," said the Major, shaking his head. + +"No, but I will," said Mrs. Riddel, with a smile. "I think I've got a +plan." + +She blushed charmingly, and then, in modest alarm at her boldness, +dropped her voice almost to a whisper. The Major gazed at her in +speechless admiration and threw back his head in ecstasy. "Come round +to-morrow afternoon," said Mrs. Riddel, pausing at the end of the lane. +"Mr. Halibut shall be there, too, and it shall be done under his very +eyes." + +Until that time came the Major sat at home carefully rehearsing his part, +and it was with an air of complacent virtue that he met the somewhat +astonished gaze of the persistent Halibut next day. It was a bright +afternoon, but they sat indoors, and Mrs. Riddel, after an animated +description of a game at cribbage with Miss Philpotts the night before, +got the cards out and challenged Halibut to a game. + +They played two, both of which the diplomatic Halibut lost; then Mrs. +Riddel, dismissing him as incompetent, sat drumming on the table with her +fingers, and at length challenged the Major. She lost the first game +easily, and began the second badly. Finally, after hastily glancing at a +new hand, she flung the cards petulantly on the table, face downward. + +"Would you like my hand, Major Brill?" she demanded, with a blush. + +"Better than anything in the world," cried the Major, eagerly. + +Halibut started, and Miss Philpotts nearly had an accident with her +crochet hook. The only person who kept cool was Mrs. Riddel, and it was +quite clear to the beholders that she had realized neither the ambiguity +of her question nor the meaning of her opponent's reply. + +"Well, you may have it," she said, brightly. + +Before Miss Philpotts could lay down her work, before Mr. Halibut could +interpose, the Major took possession of Mrs. Riddel's small white hand +and raised it gallantly to his lips. Mrs. Riddel, with a faint scream +which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. +"I meant my hand of cards," she said, breathlessly. + +"Really, Brill, really," said Halibut, stepping forward fussily. + +"Oh!" said the Major, blankly; "cards!" + +"That's what I meant, of course," said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself +with a laugh. "I had no idea still--if you prefer----" The Major took +her hand again, and Miss Philpotts set Mr. Halibut an example--which he +did not follow--by gazing meditatively out of the window. Finally she +gathered up her work and quitted the room. Mrs. Riddel smiled over at +Mr. Halibut and nodded toward the Major. + +[Illustrations: "DON'T YOU THINK MAJOR BRILL IS SOMEWHAT HASTY IN HIS +CONCLUSIONS?" SHE INQUIRED SOFTLY.] + +"Don't you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?" she +inquired, softly. + +"I'll tell Major Brill what I think of him when I get him alone," said +the injured gentleman, sourly. + + + + + + + +AN ADULTERATION ACT + +Dr. Frank Carson had been dreaming tantalizing dreams of cooling, +effervescent beverages. Over and over again in his dreams he had risen +from his bed, and tripping lightly down to the surgery in his pajamas, +mixed himself something long and cool and fizzy, without being able to +bring the dream to a satisfactory termination. + +With a sudden start he awoke. The thirst was still upon him; the +materials for quenching it, just down one flight of stairs. He would +have smacked his lips at the prospect if they had been moist enough to +smack; as it was, he pushed down the bedclothes, and throwing one leg out +of bed-became firmly convinced that he was still dreaming. + +For the atmosphere was stifling and odorous, and the ceiling descended in +an odd bulging curve to within a couple of feet of his head. Still half +asleep, he raised his fist and prodded at it in astonishment--a feeling +which gave way to one of stupefaction as the ceiling took another shape +and swore distinctly. + +"I must be dreaming," mused the doctor; "even the ceiling seems alive." + +He prodded it again-regarding it closely this time. The ceiling at once +rose to greater altitudes, and at the same moment an old face with bushy +whiskers crawled under the edge of it, and asked him profanely what he +meant by it. It also asked him whether he wanted something for himself, +because, if so, he was going the right way to work. + +"Where am I?" demanded the bewildered doctor. "Mary! Mary!" + +He started up in bed, and brought his head in sudden violent contact with +the ceiling. Then, before the indignant ceiling could carry out its +threat of a moment before, he slipped out of bed and stood on a floor +which was in its place one moment and somewhere else the next. + +In the smell of bilge-water, tar, and the foetid atmosphere generally his +clouded brain awoke to the fact that he was on board ship, but resolutely +declined to inform him how he got there. He looked down in disgust at +the ragged clothes which he had on in lieu of the usual pajamas; and +then, as events slowly pieced themselves together in his mind, +remembered, as the last thing that he could remember, that he had warned +his friend Harry Thomson, solicitor, that if he had any more to drink it +would not be good for him. + +He wondered dimly as he stood whether Thomson was there too, and walking +unsteadily round the forecastle, roused the sleepers, one by one, and +asked them whether they were Harry Thomson, all answering with much +fluency in the negative, until he came to one man who for some time made +no answer at all. + +The doctor shook him first and then punched him. Then he shook him again +and gave him little scientific slaps, until at length Harry Thomson, in a +far-away voice, said that he was all right. + +"Well, I'm glad I'm not alone," said the doctor, selfishly. "_Harry! +Harry! Wake up!_" + +"All ri'!" said the sleeper; "I'm all ri'!" + +The doctor shook him again, and then rolled him backward and forward in +his bunk. Under this gentle treatment the solicitor's faculties were +somewhat brightened, and, half opening his eyes, he punched viciously at +the disturber of his peace, until threatening voices from the gloom +promised to murder both of them. + +"Where are we?" demanded the doctor, of a deep voice from the other side +of the forecastle which had been particularly threatening. + +"Barque _Stella,_ o' course," was the reply. "Where'd you think you +was?" + +The doctor gripped the edge of his friend's bunk and tried to think; +then, a feeling of nausea overcoming all others, he clambered hurriedly +up the forecastle ladder and lurched to the side of the vessel. + +He leaned there for some time without moving, a light breeze cooling his +fevered brow, and a small schooner some little distance from them playing +seesaw, as he closed his eyes to the heaving blue sea. Land was +conspicuous by its absence, and with a groan he turned and looked about +him--at the white scrubbed deck, the snowy canvas towering aloft on +lazily creaking spars, and the steersman leaning against the wheel +regarding the officer who stood near by. + +Dr. Carson, feeling a little better, walked sternly aft, the officer +turning round and glancing in surprise at his rags as he approached. + +"I beg your pardon," began the doctor, in superior tones. + +"And what the devil do you want?" demanded the second officer; "who told +you to come along here?" + +"I want to know what this means," said the doctor, fiercely. "How dare +you kidnap us on your beastly bilge-tank?" + +"Man's mad," murmured the astonished second officer. + +"Insufferable outrage!" continued the doctor. "Take us back to +Melbourne at once." + +"You get for'ard," said the other sharply; "get for'ard, and don't let me +have any more of your lip." + +"I want to see the captain of this ship," cried the doctor; "go and fetch +him at once." + +The second officer gazed at him, limp with astonishment, and then turned +to the steersman, as though unable to believe his ears. The steersman +pointed in front of him, and the other gave a cry of surprise and rage as +he saw another tatterdemalion coming with uncertain steps toward him. + +"Carson," said the new arrival, feebly; and coming closer to his friend, +clung to him miserably. + +"I'm just having it out with 'em, Thomson," said the doctor, +energetically. "My friend here is a solicitor. Tell him what 'll happen +if they don't take us back, Harry." + +"You seem to be unaware, my good fellow," said the solicitor, covering a +large hole in the leg of his trousers with his hand, "of the very +dangerous situation in which you have placed yourselves. We have no +desire to be harsh with you--" + +"Not at all," acquiesced the doctor, nodding at the second officer. + +"At the same time," continued Mr. Thomson--"at the--" He let go his +friend's arm and staggered away; the doctor gazed after him +sympathetically. + +[Illustration: HE SAW ANOTHER TATTERDEMALION COMING TOWARDS HIM.] + +"His digestion is not all it should be," he said to the second officer, +confidentially. + +"If you don't get for'ard in two twos," said that gentleman, explosively, +"I'll knock your heads off." + +The doctor gazed at him in haughty disdain, and taking the limp Thomson +by the arm, led him slowly away. + +"How did we get here?" asked Mr. Harry Thomson, feebly. + +The doctor shook his head. + +"How did we get these disgusting clothes on?" continued his friend. + +The doctor shook his head again. "The last thing I can remember, Harry," +he said, slowly, "was imploring you not to drink any more." + +"I didn't hear you," said the solicitor, crustily; "your speech was very +indistinct last night." + +"Seemed so to you, I dare say," said the other. + +Mr. Thomson shook his arm off, and clinging to the mainmast, leaned his +cheek against it and closed his eyes. He opened them again at the sound +of voices, and drew himself up as he saw the second officer coming along +with a stern-visaged man of about fifty. + +"Are you the master of this vessel?" inquired the doctor, stepping to +his friend's side. + +"What the blazes has that got to do with you?" demanded the skipper. +"Look here, my lads; don't you play any of your little games on me, +because they won't do. You're both of you as drunk as owls." + +"Defamation of character," said the solicitor, feebly, to his friend. + +"Allow me," said the doctor, with his best manner, "to inquire what all +this means. I am Dr. Frank Carson, of Melbourne; this gentleman is my +friend Mr. Thomson, of the same place, solicitor." + +"What?" roared the skipper, the veins in his forehead standing out. +"Doctor! Solicitor! Why, you damned rascals, you shipped with me as +cook and A. B." + +"There's some mistake," said the doctor. "I'm afraid I shall have to ask +you to take us back. I hope you haven't come far." + +"Take those scarecrows away," cried the skipper, hoarsely; "take them +away before I do them a mischief. I'll have the law of somebody for +shipping two useless lubbers as seamen. Look to me like pickpockets." + +"You shall answer for this," said Carson, foaming; "we're professional +men, and we're not going to be abused by a bargee." + +"Let him talk," said Mr. Thomson, hurriedly drawing his friend away from +the irate skipper. "Let him talk." + +"I'll put you both in quod when we get to Hong-kong," said the skipper. +"Meantime, no work, no food; d'ye hear? Start and cook the breakfast, +Mr. Doctor; and you. Mr. Lawyer, turn to and ask the boy to teach you an +A. B's duties." + +He walked back to the cabin; and the new cook was slowly pushed toward +the galley by the second officer, the new A. B., under the same gentle +guidance, being conducted back to the forecastle. + +Fortunately for the new seamen the weather continued fine, but the heat +of the galley was declared by the new cook to be insupportable. From the +other hands they learned that they had been shipped with several others +by a resourceful boarding-house master. The other hands, being men of +plain speech, also said that they were brought aboard in a state of +beastly and enviable intoxication, and chaffed crudely when the doctor +attributed their apparent state of intoxication to drugs. + +"You say you're a doctor?" said the oldest seaman. + +"I am," said Carson, fiercely. + +"Wot sort of a doctor are you, if you don't know when your licker's been +played with, then?" asked the old man, as a grin passed slowly from mouth +to mouth. + +"I suppose it is because I drink so seldom," said the doctor, loftily. +"I hardly know the taste of liquor myself, while as for my friend Mr. +Thomson, you might almost call him a teetotaler. + +"Next door to one," said the solicitor, who was sewing a patch on his +trousers, as he looked up approvingly. + +"You might call 'im a sailor, if you liked," said another seaman, "but +that wouldn't make him one. All I can say is I never 'ad enough time or +money to get in the state you was both in when you come aboard." + +If the forecastle was incredulous, the cabin was worse. The officers at +first took but little notice of them, but feeling their torn and tattered +appearance was against them, they put on so many airs and graces to +counteract this that flesh and blood could not endure it quietly. The +cook would allude to his friend as Mr. Thomson, while the A. B. would +persist in referring, with a most affected utterance, to Dr. Carson. + +"Cook!" bawled the skipper one day when they were about a week out. + +Dr. Carson, who was peeling potatoes, stepped slowly out of the galley +and went toward him. + +"You say 'Sir,' when you're spoken to," said the skipper, fiercely. + +The doctor sneered. + +"My --- if you sneer at me, I'll knock your head off!" said the other, +with a wicked look. + +"When you get back to Melbourne," said the doctor, quietly, "you'll hear +more of this." + +"You're a couple of pickpockets aping the gentleman," said the skipper, +and he turned to the mate. "Mr. Mackenzie, what do these two ragamuffins +look like?" + +"Pickpockets," said the mate, dutifully. + +"It's a very handy thing," said the old man, jeeringly, "to have a doctor +aboard. First time I've carried a surgeon." + +Mr. Mackenzie guffawed loudly. + +"And a solicitor," said the skipper, gazing darkly at the hapless Harry +Thomson, who was cleaning brasswork. "Handy in case of disputes. He's a +real sea lawyer. _Cook!_" + +"Sir?" said the doctor, quietly. + +"Go down and tidy my cabin, and see you do it well." + +The doctor went below without a word, and worked like a housemaid. When +he came on deck again, his face wore a smile almost of happiness, and his +hand caressed one trousers pocket as though it concealed a hidden weapon. + +For the following three or four days the two unfortunates were worked +unceasingly. Mr. Thomson complained bitterly, but the cook wore a +sphinx-like smile and tried to comfort him. + +"It won't be for long, Harry," he said, consolingly. + +The solicitor sniffed. "I could write tract after tract on temperance," +he said, bitterly. "I wonder what our poor wives are thinking? I expect +they have put us down as dead." + +"Crying their eyes out," said the doctor, wistfully; "but they'll dry +them precious quick when we get back, and ask all sorts of questions. +What are you going to say, Harry?" + +"The truth," said the solicitor, virtuously. + +"So am I," said his friend; "but mind, we must both tell the same tale, +whatever it is. Halloa! what's the matter?" + +"It's the skipper," said the boy, who had just run up; "he wants to see +you at once. He's dying." + +He caught hold of the doctor by the sleeve; but Carson, in his most +professional manner, declined to be hurried. He went leisurely down the +companion-ladder, and met with a careless glance the concerned faces of +the mate and second officer. + +"Come to the skipper at once," said the mate. + +"Does he want to see me?" said the doctor, languidly, as he entered the +cabin. + +The skipper was lying doubled up in his bunk, his face twisted with pain. +"Doctor," he panted, "give me something quick. There's the medicine- +chest." + +"Do you want some food, sir?" inquired the other, respectfully. + +"Food be damned!" said the sufferer. "I want physic. There's the +medicine-chest." The doctor took it up and held it out to him. "I don't +want the lot," moaned the skipper. + +"I want you to give me something for red-hot corkscrews in the inside." + +"I beg your pardon," said the doctor, humbly; "I'm only the cook." + +"If you--don't--prescribe for me at once," said the skipper, "I'll put +you in irons." + +The doctor shook his head. "I shipped as cook," he said, slowly. + +"Give me something, for Heaven's sake!" said the skipper, humbly. "I'm +dying." The doctor pondered. + +"If you dinna treat him at once, I'll break your skull," said the mate, +persuasively. + +The doctor regarded him scornfully, and turned to the writhing skipper. + +"My fee is half a guinea a visit," he said, softly; "five shillings if +you come to me." + +"I'll have half a guinea's worth," said the agonized skipper. + +The doctor took his wrist, and calmly drew the second officer's watch +from its owner's pocket. Then he inspected the sick man's tongue, and +shaking his head, selected a powder from the chest. + +"You mustn't mind its being nasty," he said. "Where's a spoon?" + +He looked round for one, but the skipper took the powder from his hand, +and licked it from the paper as though it had been sherbet. + +"For mercy's sake don't say it's cholera," he gasped. + +"I won't say anything," said the doctor. "Where did you say the money +was?" + +The skipper pointed to his trousers, and Mr. Mackenzie, his national +spirit rising in hot rage, took out the agreed amount and handed it to +the physician. + +"Am I in danger?" said the skipper. + +"There's always danger," said the doctor, in his best bedside manner. +"Have you made your will?" + +The other, turning pale, shook his head. "Perhaps you'd like to see a +solicitor?" said Carson, in winning tones. + +"I'm not bad enough for that," said the skipper, stoutly. + +"You must stay here and nurse the skipper, Mr. Mackenzie," said Carson, +turning to the mate; "and be good enough not to make that snuffling +noise; it's worrying to an invalid." + +"Snuffling noise?" repeated the horror-struck mate. + +"Yes; you've got an unpleasant habit of snuffling," said the doctor; "it +sometimes. I worries me meant to speak to you about it before. You +mustn't do it here. If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck." + +The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper. "Don't +make that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie," he said, severely. + +Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the +sufferer's bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend. Mr. +Thomson was at first incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at the +sight of the half-sovereign. + +"Better hide it," he said, apprehensively; "the skipper 'll have it back +when he gets well; it's the only coin we've got." + +"He won't get well," said Dr. Carson, easily; "not till we get to Hong- +kong, that is." + +"What's the matter with him?" whispered the solicitor. + +The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head. "It +may be the cooking," he said, slowly. "I'm not a good cook, I admit. It +might be something got into the food from the medicine-chest. I +shouldn't be at all surprised if the mates are taken bad too." + +And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley again, +bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in his bunk, +punching the air with his fists and rending it with his language. The +second officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, and glancing +forward, called out loudly for the cook. + +"You're wanted, Frank," said the solicitor. + +"When he calls me doctor, I'll go," said the other, stiffly. + +"_Cook!_" bawled the second officer. "_Cook!_ COOK!" + +He came running forward, his face red and angry, and his fist doubled. +"Didn't you hear me calling you?" he demanded, fiercely. + +"I've been promoted," said Carson, sweetly. "I'm ship's surgeon now." + +"Come down below at once, or I'll take you there by the scruff of your +neck," vociferated the other. + +"You're not big enough, little man," said the doctor, still smiling. +"Well, well, lead the way, and we'll see what we can do." + +He followed the speechless second officer below, and found the boy's +description of the first officer's state as moonlight unto sunlight, as +water unto wine. Even the second officer was appalled at the spectacle, +and ventured a protest. + +"Gie me something at once," yelled Mr. Mackenzie. + +"Do you wish me to undertake your case?" inquired the doctor, suavely. + +Mr. Mackenzie said that he did, in seven long, abusive, and wicked +sentences. + +"My fee is half a guinea," said the doctor, softly, "poor people who +cannot afford more, mates and the like, I sometimes treat for less." + +"I'll die first," howled the mate; "you won't get any money out of me." + +"Very good," said the doctor, and rose to depart. + +"Bring him back, Rogers," yelled the mate; "don't let him go." + +But the second officer, with a strange awesome look in his eyes, was +leaning back in his seat, tightly gripping the edge of the table in both +hands. + +"Come, come," said the doctor, cheerily--"what's this? You mustn't be +ill, Rogers. I want you to nurse these other two." + +The other rose slowly to his feet and eyed him with lack-lustre eyes. +"Tell the third officer to take charge," he said, slowly; "and if he's to +be nurse as well, he's got his hands full." + +The doctor sent the boy to apprise the third officer of his +responsibilities, and then stood watching the extraordinary and snakelike +convolutions of Mr. Mackenzie. + +"How much--did--ye say?" hissed the latter. + +"Poor people," repeated the doctor, with relish, "five shillings a visit; +very poor people, half a crown." + +"I'll have half a crown's worth," moaned the miserable mate. + +"Mr. Mackenzie," said a faint voice from the skipper's cabin. + +"Sir?" yelled the mate, who was in torment. + +"Don't answer me like that, sir," said the skipper, sharply. "Will you +please to remember that I'm ill, and can't bear that horrible noise +you're making?" + +"I'm--ill--too," gasped the mate. + +"Ill? Nonsense!" said the skipper, severely. "We can't both be ill. +How about the ship?" + +There was no reply, but from another cabin the voice of Mr. Rogers was +heard calling wildly for medical aid, and offering impossible sums in +exchange for it. The doctor went from cabin to cabin, and, first +collecting his fees, administered sundry potions to the sufferers; and +then, in his capacity of cook, went forward and made an unsavory mess he +called gruel, which he insisted upon their eating. + +Thanks to his skill, the invalids were freed from the more violent of +their pains, but this freedom was followed by a weakness so alarming that +they could hardly raise their heads from their pillows--a state of things +which excited the intense envy of the third officer, who, owing to his +responsibilities, might just as well have been without one. + +In this state of weakness, and with the fear of impending dissolution +before his eyes, the skipper sent for Mr. Harry Thomson, and after some +comparisons between lawyers and sharks, in which stress was laid upon +certain redeeming features of the latter, paid a guinea and made his +will. His example, save in the amount of the fee, was followed by the +mate; but Mr. Rogers, being approached tentatively by the doctor in his +friend's behalf, shook his head and thanked his stars he had nothing to +leave. He had enjoyed his money, he said. + +They mended slowly as they approached Hong-kong, though a fit of temper +on Mr. Mackenzie's part, during which he threw out ominous hints about +having his money back, led to a regrettable relapse in his case. He was +still in bed when they came to anchor in the harbour; but the skipper and +his second officer were able to go above and exchange congratulations +from adjoining deck-chairs. + +"You are sure it wasn't cholera?" asked the harbour-master's deputy, who +had boarded them in his launch, after he had heard the story. + +"Positive," said Carson. + +"Very fortunate thing they had you on board," said the deputy--"very +fortunate." + +The doctor bowed. + +"Seems so odd, the three of them being down with it," said the other; +"looks as though it's infectious, doesn't it?" + +"I don't think so," said the doctor, accepting with alacrity an offer to +go ashore in the launch and change into some decent clothes. "I think I +know what it was." + +The captain of the _Stella_ pricked up his ears, and the second officer +leaned forward with parted lips. Carson, accompanied by the deputy and +the solicitor, walked toward the launch. + +"What was it?" cried the skipper, anxiously. + +[Illustration: THE SECOND OFFICER LEANED FORWARD] + +"I think that you ate something that disagreed with you," replied the +doctor, grinning meaningly. "Good-by, captain." + +The master of the _Stella_ made no reply, but rising feebly, tottered to +the side, and shook his fist at the launch as it headed for the shore. +Doctor Carson, who had had a pious upbringing, kissed his hand in return. + + + + +A GOLDEN VENTURE + +The elders of the Tidger family sat at breakfast--Mrs. Tidger with knees +wide apart and the youngest Tidger nestling in the valley of print-dress +which lay between, and Mr. Tidger bearing on one moleskin knee a small +copy of himself in a red flannel frock and a slipper. The larger Tidger +children took the solids of their breakfast up and down the stone-flagged +court outside, coming in occasionally to gulp draughts of very weak tea +from a gallipot or two which stood on the table, and to wheedle Mr. +Tidger out of any small piece of bloater which he felt generous enough +to bestow. + +"Peg away, Ann," said Mr. Tidger, heartily. + +His wife's elder sister shook her head, and passing the remains of her +slice to one of her small nephews, leaned back in her chair. "No +appetite, Tidger," she said, slowly. + +"You should go in for carpentering," said Mr. Tidger, in justification of +the huge crust he was carving into mouthfuls with his pocket-knife. +"Seems to me I can't eat enough sometimes. Hullo, who's the letter for?" + +He took it from the postman, who stood at the door amid a bevy of Tidgers +who had followed him up the court, and slowly read the address. + +"'Mrs. Ann Pullen,'" he said, handing it over to his sister-in-law; "nice +writing, too." + +Mrs. Pullen broke the envelope, and after a somewhat lengthy search for +her pocket, fumbled therein for her spectacles. She then searched the +mantelpiece, the chest of drawers, and the dresser, and finally ran them +to earth on the copper. + +She was not a good scholar, and it took her some time to read the letter, +a proceeding which she punctuated with such "Ohs" and "Ahs" and gaspings +and "God bless my souls" as nearly drove the carpenter and his wife, who +were leaning forward impatiently, to the verge of desperation. + +"Who's it from?" asked Mr. Tidger for the third time. + +"I don't know," said Mrs. Pullen. "Good gracious, who ever would ha' +thought it!" + +"Thought what, Ann?" demanded the carpenter, feverishly. + +"Why don't people write their names plain?" demanded his sister-in-law, +impatiently. "It's got a printed name up in the corner; perhaps that's +it. Well, I never did--I don't know whether I'm standing on my head or +my heels." + +"You're sitting down, that's what you're a-doing," said the carpenter, +regarding her somewhat unfavourably. + +"Perhaps it's a take-in," said Mrs. Pullen, her lips trembling. "I've +heard o' such things. If it is, I shall never get over it--never." + +"Get--over--what?" asked the carpenter. + +"It don't look like a take-in," soliloquized Mrs. Pullen, "and I +shouldn't think anybody'd go to all that trouble and spend a penny to +take in a poor thing like me." + +Mr. Tidger, throwing politeness to the winds, leaped forward, and +snatching the letter from her, read it with feverish haste, tempered +by a defective education. + +"It's a take-in, Ann," he said, his voice trembling; "it must be." + +"What is?" asked Mrs. Tidger, impatiently. + +"Looks like it," said Mrs. Pullen, feebly. + +"What is it?" screamed Mrs. Tidger, wrought beyond all endurance. + +Her husband turned and regarded her with much severity, but Mrs. Tidger's +gaze was the stronger, and after a vain attempt to meet it, he handed her +the letter. + +Mrs. Tidger read it through hastily, and then snatching the baby from her +lap, held it out with both arms to her husband, and jumping up, kissed +her sister heartily, patting her on the back in her excitement until she +coughed with the pain of it. + +"You don't think it's a take-in, Polly?" she inquired. + +"Take-in?" said her sister; "of course it ain't. Lawyers don't play +jokes; their time's too valuable. No, you're an heiress all right, Ann, +and I wish you joy. I couldn't be more pleased if it was myself." + +She kissed her again, and going to pat her back once more, discovered +that she had sunk down sufficiently low in her chair to obtain the +protection of its back. + +"Two thousand pounds," said Mrs. Pullen, in an awestruck voice. + +"Ten hundered pounds twice over," said the carpenter, mouthing it slowly; +"twenty hundered pounds." + +He got up from the table, and instinctively realizing that he could not +do full justice to his feelings with the baby in his arms, laid it on the +teatray in a puddle of cold tea and stood looking hard at the heiress. + +"I was housekeeper to her eleven years ago," said Mrs. Pullen. "I wonder +what she left it to me for?" + +"Didn't know what to do with it, I should think," said the carpenter, +still staring openmouthed. + +"Tidger, I'm ashamed of you," said his wife, snatching her infant to her +bosom. "I expect you was very good to her, Ann." + +"I never 'ad no luck," said the impenitent carpenter. "Nobody ever left +me no money. Nobody ever left me so much as a fi-pun note." + +He stared round disdainfully at his poor belongings, and drawing on his +coat, took his bag from a corner, and hoisting it on his shoulder, +started to his work. He scattered the news as he went, and it ran up and +down the little main street of Thatcham, and thence to the outlying lanes +and cottages. Within a couple of hours it was common property, and the +fortunate legatee was presented with a congratulatory address every time +she ventured near the door. + +It is an old adage that money makes friends; the carpenter was surprised +to find that the mere fact of his having a moneyed relation had the same +effect, and that men to whom he had hitherto shown a certain amount of +respect due to their position now sought his company. They stood him +beer at the "Bell," and walked by his side through the street. When they +took to dropping in of an evening to smoke a pipe the carpenter was +radiant with happiness. + +"You don't seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger," said the +wife of his bosom after they had retired one evening. + +"H'm?" said the startled carpenter. + +"What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?" demanded his +wife. + +"Smoke his pipe," replied her husband, confidently. + +"And old Wiggett?" persisted Mrs. Tidger. + +"Smoke his pipe," was the reply. "Why, what's the matter, Polly?" + +Mrs. Tidger sniffed derisively. "You men are all alike," she snapped. +"What do you think Ann wears that pink bodice for?" + +"I never noticed she 'ad a pink bodice, Polly," said the carpenter. + +"No? That's what I say. You men never notice anything," said his wife. +"If you don't send them two old fools off, I will." + +"Don't you like 'em to see Ann wearing pink?" inquired the mystified +Tidger. + +Mrs. Tidger bit her lip and shook her head at him scornfully. "In plain +English, Tidger, as plain as I can speak it,"--she said, severely, +"they're after Ann and 'er bit o' money." + +Mr. Tidger gazed at her open-mouthed, and taking advantage of that fact, +blew out the candle to hide his discomposure. "What!" he said, blankly, +"at 'er time o' life?" + +"Watch 'em to-morrer," said his wife. + +The carpenter acted upon his instructions, and his ire rose as he noticed +the assiduous attention paid by his two friends to the frivolous Mrs. +Pullen. Mr. Wiggett, a sharp-featured little man, was doing most of the +talking, while his rival, a stout, clean-shaven man with a slow, oxlike +eye, looked on stolidly. Mr. Miller was seldom in a hurry, and lost many +a bargain through his slowness--a fact which sometimes so painfully +affected the individual who had outdistanced him that he would offer to +let him have it at a still lower figure. + +"You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen," said Wiggett, the conversation +having turned upon ages. + +"Young ain't the word for it," said Miller, with a praiseworthy +determination not to be left behind. + +"No; it's age as you're thinking of, Mr. Wiggett," said the carpenter, +slowly; "none of us gets younger, do we, Ann?" + +[Illustration: "YOU GET YOUNGER THAN EVER, MRS. PULLEN."] + +"Some of us keeps young in our ways," said Mrs. Pullen, somewhat shortly. + +"How old should you say Ann is now?" persisted the watchful Tidger. + +Mr. Wiggett shook his head. "I should say she's about fifteen years +younger nor me," he said, slowly, "and I'm as lively as a cricket." + +"She's fifty-five," said the carpenter. + +"That makes you seventy, Wiggett," said Mr. Miller, pointedly. "I +thought you was more than that. You look it." + +Mr. Wiggett coughed sourly. "I'm fifty-nine," he growled. "Nothing 'll +make me believe as Mrs. Pullen's fifty-five, nor anywhere near it." + +"Ho!" said the carpenter, on his mettle--"ho! Why, my wife here was the +sixth child, and she---- He caught a gleam in the sixth child's eye, and +expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had +finished, and Mr. Tidger, noticing this, coughed again. + +"And she--" prompted Mr. Miller, displaying a polite interest. + +"She ain't so young as she was," said the carpenter. + +"Cares of a family," said Mr. Wiggett, plumping boldly. "I always +thought Mrs. Pullen was younger than her." + +"So did I," said Mr. Miller, "much younger." + +Mr. Wiggett eyed him sharply. It was rather hard to have Miller hiding +his lack of invention by participating in his compliments and even +improving upon them. It was the way he dealt at market-listening to +other dealers' accounts of their wares, and adding to them for his own. + +"I was noticing you the other day, ma'am," continued Mr. Wiggett. "I see +you going up the road with a step free and easy as a young girl's." + +"She allus walks like that," said Mr. Miller, in a tone of surprised +reproof. + +"It's in the family," said the carpenter, who had been uneasily watching +his wife's face. + +"Both of you seem to notice a lot," said Mrs. Tidger; "much more than you +used to." + +Mr. Tidger, who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed +again. + +"You ought to take something for that cough," said Mr. Wiggett, +considerately. + +"Gin and beer," said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist. + +"Bed's the best thing for it," said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was +beginning to show signs of getting out of hand. + +Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got up, +and pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and looked at +Mr. Miller. That gentleman, who was apparently deep in some knotty +problem, was gazing at the floor, and oblivious for the time to his +surroundings. + +"Come along," said Wiggett, with feigned heartiness, slapping him on the +back. + +Mr. Miller, looking for a moment as though he would like to return the +compliment, came back to everyday life, and bidding the company good- +night, stepped to the door, accompanied by his rival. It was immediately +shut with some violence. + +"They seem in a hurry," said Wiggett. "I don't think I shall go there +again." + +"I don't think I shall," said Mr. Miller. + +After this neither of them was surprised to meet there again the next +night, and indeed for several nights. The carpenter and his wife, who +did not want the money to go out of the family, and were also afraid of +offending Mrs. Pullen, were at their wits' end what to do. Ultimately it +was resolved that Tidger, in as delicate a manner as possible, was to +hint to her that they were after her money. He was so vague and so +delicate that Mrs. Pullen misunderstood him, and fancying that he was +trying to borrow half a crown, made him a present of five shillings. + +It was evident to the slower-going Mr. Miller that his rival's tongue was +giving him an advantage which only the ever-watchful presence of the +carpenter and his wife prevented him from pushing to the fullest +advantage. In these circumstances he sat for two hours after breakfast +one morning in deep cogitation, and after six pipes got up with a twinkle +in his slow eyes which his brother dealers had got to regard as a danger +signal. + +He had only the glimmering of an idea at first, but after a couple of +pints at the "Bell" everything took shape, and he cast his eyes about for +an assistant. They fell upon a man named Smith, and the dealer, after +some thought, took up his glass and went over to him. + +"I want you to do something for me," he remarked, in a mysterious voice. + +"Ah, I've been wanting to see you," said Smith, who was also a dealer in +a small way. "One o' them hins I bought off you last week is dead." + +"I'll give you another for it," said Miller. + +"And the others are so forgetful," continued Mr. Smith. + +"Forgetful?" repeated the other. + +"Forget to lay, like," said Mr. Smith, musingly. + +"Never mind about them," said Mr. Miller, with some animation. "I want +you to do something for me. If it comes off all right, I'll give you a +dozen hins and a couple of decentish-sized pigs." + +Mr. Smith called a halt. "Decentish-sized" was vague. + +"Take your pick," said Mr. Miller. "You know Mrs. Pullen's got two +thousand pounds--" + +"Wiggett's going to have it," said the other; "he as good as told me so." + +"He's after her money," said the other, sadly. "Look 'ere, Smith, I want +you to tell him she's lost it all. Say that Tidger told you, but you +wasn't to tell anybody else. Wiggett 'll believe you." + +Mr. Smith turned upon him a face all wrinkles, lit by one eye. "I want +the hins and the pigs first," he said, firmly. + +Mr. Miller, shocked at his grasping spirit, stared at him mournfully. + +"And twenty pounds the day you marry Mrs. Pullen," continued Mr. Smith. + +Mr. Miller, leading him up and down the sawdust floor, besought him to +listen to reason, and Mr. Smith allowed the better feelings of our common +human nature to prevail to the extent of reducing his demands to half a +dozen fowls on account, and all the rest on the day of the marriage. +Then, with the delightful feeling that he wouldn't do any work for a +week, he went out to drop poison into the ears of Mr. Wiggett. + +"Lost all her money!" said the startled Mr. Wiggett. "How?" + +"I don't know how," said his friend. "Tidger told me, but made me +promise not to tell a soul. But I couldn't help telling you, Wiggett, +'cause I know what you're after." + +"Do me a favour," said the little man. + +"I will," said the other. + +"Keep it from Miller as long as possible. If you hear any one else +talking of it, tell 'em to keep it from him. If he marries her I'll give +you a couple of pints." + +Mr. Smith promised faithfully, and both the Tidgers and Mrs. Pullen were +surprised to find that Mr. Miller was the only visitor that evening. He +spoke but little, and that little in a slow, ponderous voice intended for +Mrs. Pullen's ear alone. He spoke disparagingly of money, and shook his +head slowly at the temptations it brought in its train. Give him a +crust, he said, and somebody to halve it with--a home-made crust baked by +a wife. It was a pretty picture, but somewhat spoiled by Mrs. Tidger +suggesting that, though he had spoken of halving the crust, he had said +nothing about the beer. + +"Half of my beer wouldn't be much," said the dealer, slowly. + +"Not the half you would give your wife wouldn't," retorted Mrs. Tidger. + +The dealer sighed and looked mournfully at Mrs. Pullen. The lady sighed +in return, and finding that her admirer's stock of conversation seemed to +be exhausted, coyly suggested a game of draughts. The dealer assented +with eagerness, and declining the offer of a glass of beer by explaining +that he had had one the day before yesterday, sat down and lost seven +games right off. He gave up at the seventh game, and pushing back his +chair, said that he thought Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful draught- +player he had ever seen, and took no notice when Mrs. Tidger, in a dry +voice charged with subtle meaning, said that she thought he was. + +"Draughts come natural to some people," said Mrs. Pullen, modestly. +"It's as easy as kissing your fingers." + +Mr. Miller looked doubtful; then he put his great fingers to his lips by +way of experiment, and let them fall unmistakably in the widow's +direction. Mrs. Pullen looked down and nearly blushed. The carpenter +and his wife eyed each other in indignant consternation. + +"That's easy enough," said the dealer, and repeated the offense. + +Mrs. Pullen got up in some confusion, and began to put the draught-board +away. One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they both stooped to +recover it their heads bumped. It was nothing to the dealer's, but Mrs. +Pullen rubbed hers and sat down with her eyes watering. Mr. Miller took +out his handkerchief, and going to the scullery, dipped it into water and +held it to her head. + +"Is it better?" he inquired. + +"A little better," said the victim, with a shiver. + +Mr. Miller, in his emotion, was squeezing the handkerchief hard, and a +cold stream was running down her neck. + +"Thank you. It's all right now." + +The dealer replaced the handkerchief, and sat for some time regarding her +earnestly. Then the carpenter and his wife displaying manifest signs of +impatience, he took his departure, after first inviting himself for +another game of draughts the following night. + +He walked home with the air of a conqueror, and thought exultingly that +the two thousand pounds were his. It was a deal after his own heart, and +not the least satisfactory part about it was the way he had got the +better of Wiggett. + +He completed his scheme the following day after a short interview with +the useful Smith. By the afternoon Wiggett found that his exclusive +information was common property, and all Thatcham was marvelling at the +fortitude with which Mrs. Pullen was bearing the loss of her fortune. +With a view of being out of the way when the denial was published, Mr. +Miller, after loudly expressing in public his sympathy for Mrs. Pullen +and his admiration of her qualities, drove over with some pigs to a +neighbouring village, returning to Thatcham in the early evening. Then +hurriedly putting his horse up he made his way to the carpenter's. + +The Tidgers were at home when he entered, and Mrs. Pullen flushed faintly +as he shook hands. + +"I was coming in before," he said, impressively, "after what I heard this +afternoon, but I had to drive over to Thorpe." + +"You 'eard it?" inquired the carpenter, in an incredulous voice. + +"Certainly," said the dealer, "and very sorry I was. Sorry for one +thing, but glad for another." + +The carpenter opened his mouth and seemed about to speak. Then he +checked himself suddenly and gazed with interest at the ingenuous dealer. + +"I'm glad," said Mr. Miller, slowly, as he nodded at a friend of Mrs. +Tidger's who had just come in with a long face, "because now that Mrs. +Pullen is poor, I can say to her what I couldn't say while she was rich." + +Again the astonished carpenter was about to speak, but the dealer hastily +checked him with his hand. + +"One at a time," he said. "Mrs. Pullen, I was very sorry to hear this +afternoon, for your sake, that you had lost all your money. What I +wanted to say to you now, now that you are poor, was to ask you to be +Mrs. Miller. What d'ye say?" + +Mrs. Pullen, touched at so much goodness, wept softly and said, "Yes." +The triumphant Miller took out his handkerchief--the same that he had +used the previous night, for he was not an extravagant man--and tenderly +wiped her eyes. + +"Well, I'm blowed!" said the staring carpenter. + +"I've got a nice little 'ouse," continued the wily Mr. Miller. "It's a +poor place, but nice, and we'll play draughts every evening. When shall +it be?" + +"When you like," said Mrs. Pullen, in a faint voice. + +"I'll put the banns up to-morrow," said the dealer. + +Mrs. Tidger's lady friend giggled at so much haste, but Mrs. Tidger, who +felt that she had misjudged him, was touched. + +"It does you credit, Mr. Miller," she said, warmly. + +"No, no," said the dealer; and then Mr. Tidger got up, and crossing the +room, solemnly shook hands with him. + +"Money or no money, she'll make a good wife," he said. + +"I'm glad you're pleased," said the dealer, wondering at this cordiality. + +"I don't deny I thought you was after her money," continued the +carpenter, solemnly. "My missus thought so, too." + +Mr. Miller shook his head, and said he thought they would have known him +better. + +"Of course it is a great loss," said the carpenter. "Money is money." + +"That's all it is, though," said the slightly mystified Mr. Miller. + +"What I can't understand is," continued the carpenter, "'ow the news got +about. Why, the neighbours knew of it a couple of hours before we did." + +The dealer hid a grin. Then he looked a bit bewildered again. + +"I assure you," said the carpenter, "it was known in the town at least a +couple of hours before we got the letter." + +Mr. Miller waited a minute to get perfect control over his features. +"Letter?" he repeated, faintly. + +"The letter from the lawyers," said the carpenter. + +Mr. Miller was silent again. His features were getting tiresome. He +eyed the door furtively. + +"What-was-in-the letter?" he asked. + +"Short and sweet," said the carpenter, with bitterness. "Said it was all +a mistake, because they'd been and found another will. People shouldn't +make such mistakes." + +"We're all liable to make mistakes," said Miller, thinking he saw an +opening. + +"Yes, we made a mistake when we thought you was after Ann's money," +assented the carpenter. "I'm sure I thought you'd be the last man in the +world to be pleased to hear that she'd lost it. One thing is, you've got +enough for both." + +[Illustration: "WE'LL LEAVE YOU TWO YOUNG THINGS ALONE."] + +Mr. Miller made no reply, but in a dazed way strove to realize the full +measure of the misfortune which had befallen him. The neighbour, with +the anxiety of her sex to be the first with a bit of news, had already +taken her departure. He thought of Wiggett walking the earth a free man, +and of Smith with a three-months' bill for twenty pounds. His pride as a +dealer was shattered beyond repair, and emerging from a species of mist, +he became conscious that the carpenter was addressing him. + +"We'll leave you two young things alone for a bit," said Mr. Tidger, +heartily. "We're going out. When you're tired o' courting you can play +draughts, and Ann will show you one or two of 'er moves. So long." + + + + + + +THREE AT TABLE + +The talk in the coffee-room had been of ghosts and apparitions, and +nearly everybody present had contributed his mite to the stock of +information upon a hazy and somewhat thread-bare subject. Opinions +ranged from rank incredulity to childlike faith, one believer going so +far as to denounce unbelief as impious, with a reference to the Witch of +Endor, which was somewhat marred by being complicated in an inexplicable +fashion with the story of Jonah. + +"Talking of Jonah," he said solemnly, with a happy disregard of the fact +that he had declined to answer several eager questions put to him on the +subject, "look at the strange tales sailors tell us." + +"I wouldn't advise you to believe all those," said a bluff, clean-shaven +man, who had been listening without speaking much. "You see when a +sailor gets ashore he's expected to have something to tell, and his +friends would be rather disappointed if he had not." + +"It's a well-known fact," interrupted the first speaker firmly, "that +sailors are very prone to see visions." + +"They are," said the other dryly, "they generally see them in pairs, and +the shock to the nervous system frequently causes headache next morning." + +"You never saw anything yourself?" suggested an unbeliever. + +"Man and boy," said the other, "I've been at sea thirty years, and the +only unpleasant incident of that kind occurred in a quiet English +countryside." + +"And that?" said another man. + +"I was a young man at the time," said the narrator, drawing at his pipe +and glancing good-humouredly at the company. "I, had just come back from +China, and my own people being away I went down into the country to +invite myself to stay with an uncle. When I got down to the place I +found it closed and the family in the South of France; but as they were +due back in a couple of days I decided to put up at the Royal George, +a very decent inn, and await their return. + +"The first day I passed well enough; but in the evening the dulness of +the rambling old place, in which I was the only visitor, began to weigh +upon my spirits, and the next morning after a late breakfast I set out +with the intention of having a brisk day's walk. + +"I started off in excellent spirits, for the day was bright and frosty, +with a powdering of snow on the iron-bound roads and nipped hedges, and +the country had to me all the charm of novelty. It was certainly flat, +but there was plenty of timber, and the villages through which I passed +were old and picturesque. + +"I lunched luxuriously on bread and cheese and beer in the bar of a small +inn, and resolved to go a little further before turning back. When at +length I found I had gone far enough, I turned up a lane at right angles +to the road I was passing, and resolved to find my way back by another +route. It is a long lane that has no turning, but this had several, each +of which had turnings of its own, which generally led, as I found by +trying two or three of them, into the open marshes. Then, tired of +lanes, I resolved to rely upon the small compass which hung from my watch +chain and go across country home. + +"I had got well into the marshes when a white fog, which had been for +some time hovering round the edge of the ditches, began gradually to +spread. There was no escaping it, but by aid of my compass I was saved +from making a circular tour and fell instead into frozen ditches or +stumbled over roots in the grass. I kept my course, however, until at +four o'clock, when night was coming rapidly up to lend a hand to the fog, +I was fain to confess myself lost. + +"The compass was now no good to me, and I wandered about miserably, +occasionally giving a shout on the chance of being heard by some passing +shepherd or farmhand. At length by great good luck I found my feet on a +rough road driven through the marshes, and by walking slowly and tapping +with my stick managed to keep to it. I had followed it for some distance +when I heard footsteps approaching me. + +"We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking countryman, +hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a mile, and putting +me on to a road gave me minute instructions how to reach a village some +three miles distant. + +"I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a +little way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window. I pointed it +out, but my companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily. + +"'You won't get no good there,' he said, hastily. + +"'Why not?' I asked. + +"'There's a something there, sir,' he replied, 'what 'tis I dunno, but +the little 'un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts +see it, and it was never much good afterward. Some say as it's a poor +mad thing, others says as it's a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it +ain't good to see.' + +"'Well, I'll keep on, then,' I said. 'Goodnight.' + +"He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the +distance, and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided into +three, any one of which to a stranger might be said to lead straight on. +I was now cold and tired, and having half made up my mind walked slowly +back toward the house. + +"At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the +window. I made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found myself +walking into a tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came to a +small gate, and opening it cautiously, walked, not without some little +nervousness, up a long path which led to the door. There was no light and +no sound from within. Half repenting of my temerity I shortened my stick +and knocked lightly upon the door. + +"I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was +still beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old woman, +holding a candle, confronted me. + +"'What do you want?' she demanded gruffly. + +"'I've lost my way,' I said, civilly; 'I want to get to Ashville.' + +"'Don't know it,' said the old woman. + +"She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the +side of the hall and came toward us. An old man of great height and +breadth of shoulder. + +"'Ashville is fifteen miles distant,' he said slowly. + +"'If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,' I +remarked. + +"He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the woman. +She made a gesture of dissent. + +"'The nearest place is three miles off,' he said, turning to me and +apparently trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; 'if you will give me +the pleasure of your company, I will make you as comfortable as I can.' + +"I hesitated. They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy +hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting +than the darkness outside. + +"'You are very kind,' I murmured, irresolutely, 'but--' + +"'Come in,' he said quickly; 'shut the door, Anne.' + +"Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman, +muttering to herself, had closed the door behind me. With a queer +sensation of being trapped I followed my host into the room, and taking +the proffered chair warmed my frozen fingers at the fire. + +"'Dinner will soon be ready,' said the old man, regarding me closely. 'If +you will excuse me.' + +"I bowed and he left the room. A minute afterward I heard voices; his +and the old woman's, and, I fancied, a third. Before I had finished my +inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange +look I had noticed before. + +"'There will be three of us at dinner,' he said, at length. 'We two and +my son.' + +"I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn't run in the +family. + +"'I suppose you don't mind dining in the dark,' he said, abruptly. + +"'Not at all,' I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, 'but +really I'm afraid I'm intruding. If you'll allow me--' + +"He waved his huge gaunt hands. 'We're not going to lose you now we've +got you,' he said, with a dry laugh. 'It's seldom we have company, and +now we've got you we'll keep you. My son's eyes are bad, and he can't +stand the light. Ah, here is Anne.' + +"As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to +lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the +hearth, sat looking silently into the fire. The table set, the old woman +brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three +chairs, left the room. The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising +from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly +extinguished the candles. + +"'Blind man's holiday,' he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his +way to the door opened it. Somebody came back into the room with him, +and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the +strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming +oppressive. + +"'A cold night,' it said slowly. + +"I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an +appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the +day. It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident +from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to +dining under such circumstances as I was. We ate in silence until the +old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a +crash upon the table. + +"'Are you a stranger about here?' inquired the curious voice again. + +"I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in +stumbling upon such a good dinner. + +"'Stumbling is a very good word for it,' said the voice grimly. 'You +have forgotten the port, father.' + +"'So I have,' said the old man, rising. 'It's a bottle of the +"Celebrated" to-day; I will get it myself.' + +"He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone +with my unseen neighbour. There was something so strange about the whole +business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness. + +"My host seemed to be absent a long time. I heard the man opposite lay +down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes +shining through the gloom like a cat's. + +"With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back. It caught +the hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over +with a crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of +the creature opposite. With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair +and stood with clenched fists beside it. Man or beast, which was it? +The flame leaped up and then went out, and in the mere red glow of the +fire it looked more devilish than before. + +"For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door +opened and the old man returned. He stood aghast as he saw the warm +firelight, and then approaching the table mechanically put down a couple +of bottles. + +"'I beg your pardon,' said I, reassured by his presence, 'but I have +accidentally overturned the screen. Allow me to replace it.' + +"'No,' said the old man, gently, 'let it be. + +"'We have had enough of the dark. I'll give you a light.' + +"He struck a match and slowly lit the candles. Then--I saw that the man +opposite had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which one +unquenched eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered. I was +greatly moved, some suspicion of the truth occurring to me. + +"'My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,' said the old +man. 'Since then we have lived a very retired life. When you came to +the door we--' his voice trembled, 'that is-my son---' + +"'I thought," said the son simply, 'that it would be better for me not to +come to the dinner-table. But it happens to be my birthday, and my +father would not hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish +plan of dining in the dark. I'm sorry I startled you.' + +"'I am sorry,' said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his +hand, 'that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you +startled me.' + +"From a faint tinge in the old man's cheek and a certain pleasant +softening of the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly +congratulated myself upon this last remark. + +"'We never see a friend,' said the old man, apologetically, 'and the +temptation to have company was too much for us. Besides, I don't know +what else you could have done.' + +"'Nothing else half so good, I'm sure,' said I. + +"'Come,' said my host, with almost a sprightly air. 'Now we know each +other, draw our chairs to the fire and let's keep this birthday in a +proper fashion.' + +"He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box of +cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to sit +down and drink. If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for +vivacity, and we were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen. The +night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears when in a +lull in the conversation a clock in the hall struck twelve. + +"'A last toast before we retire,' said my host, pitching the end of his +cigar into the fire and turning to the small table. + +"We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive in +the old man's manner as he rose and took up his glass. His tall figure +seemed to get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at his +disfigured son. + +"'The health of the children my boy saved!' he said, and drained his +glass at a draught." + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lady of the Barge and Others, Entire +Collection, by W.W. Jacobs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADY OF THE BARGE AND *** + +***** This file should be named 12133.txt or 12133.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/1/2/1/3/12133/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: Lady of the Barge and Others, Entire Collection + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: October 30, 2006 [EBook #12133] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADY OF THE BARGE AND *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="cover.jpg (102K)" src="images/cover.jpg" height="923" width="738"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="title.jpg (40K)" src="images/title.jpg" height="602" width="442"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<center> +<h1>THE LADY OF THE BARGE<br><br> +AND OTHER STORIES</h1> +<br><br> +<h2>By W. W. Jacobs</h2> +</center> + +<a name="frontis"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="frontis.jpg (80K)" src="images/frontis.jpg" height="742" width="503"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CONTENTS</h2></center> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + +<br> +<p> +<a href="#c1">THE LADY OF THE BARGE</a><br><br> +<a href="#c2">THE MONKEY'S PAW</a><br><br> +<a href="#c3">BILL'S PAPER CHASE</a><br><br> +<a href="#c4">THE WELL</a><br><br> +<a href="#c5">CUPBOARD LOVE</a><br><br> +<a href="#c6">IN THE LIBRARY</a><br><br> +<a href="#c7">CAPTAIN ROGERS</a><br><br> +<a href="#c8">A TIGER'S SKIN</a><br><br> +<a href="#c9">A MIXED PROPOSAL</a><br><br> +<a href="#c10">AN ADULTERATION ACT</a><br><br> +<a href="#c11">A GOLDEN VENTURE</a><br><br> +<a href="#c12">THREE AT TABLE</a> +</p> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +</center> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + +<br> +<p> +<a href="#frontis">He denied it again, hotly—frontispiece</a><br><br> +<a href="#001">"You villain!" she said, in a choking voice</a><br><br> +<a href="#002">"What's that?" cried the old woman</a><br><br> +<a href="#003">Mrs. Driver fell back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish</a><br><br> +<a href="#004">Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the door</a><br><br> +<a href="#005">Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast</a><br><br> +<a href="#006">"Don't you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?"</a><br><br> +<a href="#007">He saw another tatterdemalion coming toward him</a><br><br> +<a href="#008">"You say you're a doctor?"</a><br><br> +<a href="#009">The second officer leaned forward</a><br><br> +<a href="#010">"You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen,"</a><br><br> +<a href="#011">"We'll leave you two young things alone,"</a> +</p> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<a name="c1"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +THE LADY OF THE BARGE +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>The master of the barge Arabella sat in the stern of his craft with his +right arm leaning on the tiller. A desultory conversation with the mate +of a schooner, who was hanging over the side of his craft a few yards +off, had come to a conclusion owing to a difference of opinion on the +subject of religion. The skipper had argued so warmly that he almost +fancied he must have inherited the tenets of the Seventh-day Baptists +from his mother while the mate had surprised himself by the warmth of his +advocacy of a form of Wesleyanism which would have made the members of +that sect open their eyes with horror. He had, moreover, confirmed the +skipper in the error of his ways by calling him a bargee, the ranks of +the Baptists receiving a defender if not a recruit from that hour.</p> + +<p>With the influence of the religious argument still upon him, the skipper, +as the long summer's day gave place to night, fell to wondering where his +own mate, who was also his brother-in-law, had got to. Lights which had +been struggling with the twilight now burnt bright and strong, and the +skipper, moving from the shadow to where a band of light fell across the +deck, took out a worn silver watch and saw that it was ten o'clock.</p> + +<p>Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above and +began to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of twenty-two +sprang nimbly to the deck.</p> + +<p>"Ten o'clock, Ted," said the skipper, slowly. "It 'll be eleven in an +hour's time," said the mate, calmly.</p> + +<p>"That 'll do," said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticed +that his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position, +and a fortuitous expression of his mother's occurred to him: "Don't talk +to me; I've been arguing with a son of Belial for the last half-hour."</p> + +<p>"Bargee," said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't take no notice of him, Ted," said the skipper, pityingly.</p> + +<p>"He wasn't talking to me," said Ted. "But never mind about him; I want +to speak to you in private."</p> + +<p>"Fire away, my lad," said the other, in a patronizing voice.</p> + +<p>"Speak up," said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. "I'm +listening."</p> + +<p>There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the cabin, +and lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, took a seat +on a locker, and again requested the other to fire away.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, it's this way," began the mate, with a preliminary +wriggle: "there's a certain young woman—"</p> + +<p>"A certain young what?" shouted the master of the Arabella.</p> + +<p>"Woman," repeated the mate, snappishly; "you've heard of a woman afore, +haven't you? Well, there's a certain young woman I'm walking out +with I—"</p> + +<p>"Walking out?" gasped the skipper. "Why, I never 'eard o' such a +thing."</p> + +<p>"You would ha' done if you'd been better looking, p'raps," retorted the +other. "Well, I've offered this young woman to come for a trip with us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have, 'ave you!" said the skipper, sharply. "And what do you +think Louisa will say to it?"</p> + +<p>"That's your look out," said Louisa's brother, cheerfully. "I'll make +her up a bed for'ard, and we'll all be as happy as you please."</p> + +<p>He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a series +of whistles of the most amatory description.</p> + +<p>"There she is," he said. "I told her to wait outside."</p> + +<p>He ran upon deck, and his perturbed brother-in-law, following at his +leisure, was just in time to see him descending the ladder with a young +woman and a small handbag.</p> + +<p>"This is my brother-in-law, Cap'n Gibbs," said Ted, introducing the new +arrival; "smartest man at a barge on the river."</p> + +<p>The girl extended a neatly gloved hand, shook the skipper's affably, and +looked wonderingly about her.</p> + +<p>"It's very close to the water, Ted," she said, dubiously.</p> + +<p>The skipper coughed. "We don't take passengers as a rule," he said, +awkwardly; "we 'ain't got much convenience for them."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said the girl, kindly; "I sha'nt expect too much."</p> + +<p>She turned away, and following the mate down to the cabin, went into +ecstasies over the space-saving contrivances she found there. The +drawers fitted in the skipper's bunk were a source of particular +interest, and the owner watched with strong disapprobation through the +skylight her efforts to make him an apple-pie bed with the limited means +at her disposal. He went down below at once as a wet blanket.</p> + +<p>"I was just shaking your bed up a bit," said Miss Harris, reddening.</p> + +<p>"I see you was," said the skipper, briefly.</p> + +<p>He tried to pluck up courage to tell her that he couldn't take her, but +only succeeded in giving vent to an inhospitable cough.</p> + +<p>"I'll get the supper," said the mate, suddenly; "you sit down, old man, +and talk to Lucy."</p> + +<p>In honour of the visitor he spread a small cloth, and then proceeded to +produce cold beef, pickles, and accessories in a manner which reminded +Miss Harris of white rabbits from a conjurer's hat. Captain Gibbs, +accepting the inevitable, ate his supper in silence and left them to +their glances.</p> + +<p>"We must make you up a bed, for'ard, Lucy," said the mate, when they had +finished.</p> + +<p>Miss Harris started. "Where's that?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"Other end o' the boat," replied the mate, gathering up some bedding +under his arm. "You might bring a lantern, John."</p> + +<p>The skipper, who was feeling more sociable after a couple of glasses of +beer, complied, and accompanied the couple to the tiny forecastle. A +smell compounded of bilge, tar, paint, and other healthy disinfectants +emerged as the scuttle was pushed back. The skipper dangled the lantern +down and almost smiled.</p> + +<p>"I can't sleep there," said the girl, with decision. "I shall die o' +fright."</p> + +<p>"You'll get used to it," said Ted, encouragingly, as he helped her down; +"it's quite dry and comfortable."</p> + +<p>He put his arm round her waist and squeezed her hand, and aided by this +moral support, Miss Harris not only consented to remain, but found +various advantages in the forecastle over the cabin, which had escaped +the notice of previous voyagers.</p> + +<p>"I'll leave you the lantern," said the mate, making it fast, "and we +shall be on deck most o' the night. We get under way at two."</p> + +<p>He quitted the forecastle, followed by the skipper, after a polite but +futile attempt to give him precedence, and made his way to the cabin for +two or three hours' sleep.</p> + +<p>"There'll be a row at the other end, Ted," said the skipper, nervously, +as he got into his bunk. "Louisa's sure to blame me for letting you keep +company with a gal like this. We was talking about you only the other +day, and she said if you was married five years from now, it 'ud be quite +soon enough."</p> + +<p>"Let Loo mind her own business," said the mate, sharply; "she's not going +to nag me. She's not my wife, thank goodness!"</p> + +<p>He turned over and fell fast asleep, waking up fresh and bright three +hours later, to commence what he fondly thought would be the pleasantest +voyage of his life.</p> + +<p>The Arabella dropped slowly down with the tide, the wind being so light +that she was becalmed by every tall warehouse on the way. Off Greenwich, +however, the breeze freshened somewhat, and a little later Miss Harris, +looking somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to hair, came slowly +on deck.</p> + +<p>"Where's the looking-glass?" she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her. +"How does my hair look?"</p> + +<p>"All wavy," said the infatuated young man; "all little curls and +squiggles. Come down in the cabin; there's a glass there."</p> + +<p>Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller, +followed the mate below, and giving vent to a little cry of indignation +as she saw herself in the glass, waved the amorous Ted on deck, and +started work on her disarranged hair.</p> + +<p>At breakfast-time a little friction was caused by what the mate bitterly +termed the narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways of the skipper. He had +arranged that the skipper should steer while he and Miss Harris +breakfasted, but the coffee was no sooner on the table than the skipper +called him, and relinquishing the helm in his favour, went below to do +the honours. The mate protested.</p> + +<p>"It's not proper," said the skipper. "Me and 'er will 'ave our meals +together, and then you must have yours. She's under my care."</p> + +<p>Miss Harris assented blithely, and talk and laughter greeted the ears of +the indignant mate as he steered. He went down at last to cold coffee +and lukewarm herrings, returning to the deck after a hurried meal to find +the skipper narrating some of his choicest experiences to an audience +which hung on his lightest word.</p> + +<p>The disregard they showed for his feelings was maddening, and for the +first time in his life he became a prey to jealousy in its worst form. +It was quite clear to him that the girl had become desperately enamoured +of the skipper, and he racked his brain in a wild effort to discover the +reason.</p> + +<p>With an idea of reminding his brother-in-law of his position, he alluded +two or three times in a casual fashion to his wife. The skipper hardly +listened to him, and patting Miss Harris's cheek in a fatherly manner, +regaled her with an anecdote of the mate's boyhood which the latter had +spent a goodly portion of his life in denying. He denied it again, +hotly, and Miss Harris, conquering for a time her laughter, reprimanded +him severely for contradicting.</p> + +<p>By the time dinner was ready he was in a state of sullen apathy, and when +the meal was over and the couple came on deck again, so far forgot +himself as to compliment Miss Harris upon her appetite.</p> + +<p>"I'm ashamed of you, Ted," said the skipper, with severity.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you know what shame is," retorted the mate.</p> + +<p>"If you can't be'ave yourself, you'd better keep a bit for'ard till you +get in a better temper," continued the skipper.</p> + +<p>"I'll be pleased to," said the smarting mate. "I wish the barge was +longer."</p> + +<p>"It couldn't be too long for me," said Miss Harris, tossing her head.</p> + +<p>"Be'aving like a schoolboy," murmured the skipper.</p> + +<p>"I know how to behave <i>my</i>-self," said the mate, as he disappeared below. +His head suddenly appeared again over the companion. "If some people +don't," he added, and disappeared again.</p> + +<p>He was pleased to notice as he ate his dinner that the giddy prattle +above had ceased, and with his back turned toward the couple when he +appeared on deck again, he lounged slowly forward until the skipper +called him back again.</p> + +<p>"Wot was them words you said just now, Ted?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>The mate repeated them with gusto.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said the skipper, sharply; "very good."</p> + +<p>"Don't you ever speak to me again," said Miss Harris, with a stately air, +"because I won't answer you if you do."</p> + +<p>The mate displayed more of his schoolboy nature. "Wait till you're +spoken to," he said, rudely. "This is your gratefulness, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Gratefulness?" said Miss Harris, with her chin in the air. "What for?"</p> + +<p>"For bringing you for a trip," replied the mate, sternly.</p> + +<p>"You bringing me for a trip!" said Miss Harris, scornfully. "Captain +Gibbs is the master here, I suppose. He is giving me the trip. You're +only the mate."</p> + +<p>"Just so," said the mate, with a grin at his brother-in-law, which made +that worthy shift uneasily. "I wonder what Loo will say when she sees +you with a lady aboard?"</p> + +<p>"She came to please you," said Captain Gibbs, with haste.</p> + +<p>"Ho! she did, did she?" jeered the mate. "Prove it; only don't look to +me to back you, that's all."</p> + +<p>The other eyed him in consternation, and his manner changed.</p> + +<p>"Don't play the fool, Ted," he said, not unkindly; "you know what Loo +is."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm reckoning on that," said the mate, deliberately. "I'm going +for'ard; don't let me interrupt you two. So long."</p> + +<p>He went slowly forward, and lighting his pipe, sprawled carelessly on the +deck, and renounced the entire sex forthwith. At teatime the skipper +attempted to reverse the procedure at the other meals; but as Miss Harris +steadfastly declined to sit at the same table as the mate, his good +intentions came to naught.</p> + +<p>He made an appeal to what he termed the mate's better nature, after Miss +Harris had retired to the seclusion of her bed-chamber, but in vain.</p> + +<p>"She's nothing to do with me," declared the mate, majestically. "I wash +my hands of her. She's a flirt. I'm like Louisa, I can't bear flirts."</p> + +<p>The skipper said no more, but his face was so worn that Miss Harris, when +she came on deck in the early morning and found the barge gliding gently +between the grassy banks of a river, attributed it to the difficulty of +navigating so large a craft on so small and winding a stream.</p> + +<p>"We shall be alongside in 'arf an hour," said the skipper, eyeing her.</p> + +<p>Miss Harris expressed her gratification.</p> + +<p>"P'raps you wouldn't mind going down the fo'c'sle and staying there till +we've made fast," said the other. "I'd take it as a favour. My owners +don't like me to carry passengers."</p> + +<p>Miss Harris, who understood perfectly, said, "Certainly," and with a cold +stare at the mate, who was at no pains to conceal his amusement, went +below at once, thoughtfully closing the scuttle after her.</p> + +<p>"There's no call to make mischief, Ted," said the skipper, somewhat +anxiously, as they swept round the last bend and came into view of +Coalsham.</p> + +<p>The mate said nothing, but stood by to take in sail as they ran swiftly +toward the little quay. The pace slackened, and the Arabella, as though +conscious of the contraband in her forecastle, crept slowly to where a +stout, middle-aged woman, who bore a strong likeness to the mate, stood +upon the quay.</p> + +<p>"There's poor Loo," said the mate, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>The skipper made no reply to this infernal insinuation. The barge ran +alongside the quay and made fast.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd be up," said Mrs. Gibbs to her husband. "Now come along +to breakfast; Ted 'll follow on."</p> + +<p>Captain Gibbs, dived down below for his coat, and slipping ashore, +thankfully prepared to move off with his wife.</p> + +<p>"Come on as soon as you can, Ted," said the latter. "Why, what on earth +is he making that face for?"</p> + +<p>She turned in amazement as her brother, making a pretence of catching her +husband's eye, screwed his face up into a note of interrogation and gave +a slight jerk with his thumb.</p> + +<p>"Come along," said Captain Gibbs, taking her arm with much affection.</p> + +<p>"But what's Ted looking like that for?" demanded his wife, as she easily +intercepted another choice facial expression of the mate's.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's his fun," replied her husband, walking on.</p> + +<p>"Fun?" repeated Mrs. Gibbs, sharply. "What's the matter, Ted."</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied the mate.</p> + +<p>"Touch o' toothache," said the skipper. "Come along, Loo; I can just do +with one o' your breakfasts."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gibbs suffered herself to be led on, and had got at least five yards +on the way home, when she turned and looked back. The mate had still got +the toothache, and was at that moment in all the agonies of a phenomenal +twinge.</p> + +<p>"There's something wrong here," said Mrs. Gibbs as she retraced her +steps. "Ted, what are you making that face for?"</p> + +<p>"It's my own face," said the mate, evasively.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gibbs conceded the point, and added bitterly that it couldn't be +helped. All the same she wanted to know what he meant by it.</p> + +<p>"Ask John," said the vindictive mate.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gibbs asked. Her husband said he didn't know, and added that Ted +had been like it before, but he had not told her for fear of frightening +her. Then he tried to induce her to go with him to the chemist's to get +something for it.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gibbs shook her head firmly, and boarding the barge, took a seat on +the hatch and proceeded to catechise her brother as to his symptoms. He +denied that there was anything the matter with him, while his eyes openly +sought those of Captain Gibbs as though asking for instruction.</p> + +<p>"You come home, Ted," she said at length.</p> + +<p>"I can't," said the mate. "I can't leave the ship."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" demanded his sister.</p> + +<p>"Ask John," said the mate again.</p> + +<p>At this Mrs. Gibbs's temper, which had been rising, gave way altogether, +and she stamped fiercely upon the deck. A stamp of the foot has been for +all time a rough-and-ready means of signalling; the fore-scuttle was +drawn back, and the face of a young and pretty girl appeared framed in +the opening. The mate raised his eyebrows with a helpless gesture, and +as for the unfortunate skipper, any jury would have found him guilty +without leaving the box. The wife of his bosom, with a flaming visage, +turned and regarded him.</p> + +<a name="001"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="001.jpg (67K)" src="images/001.jpg" height="523" width="508"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p> +"You villain!" she said, in a choking voice.</p> + +<p>Captain Gibbs caught his breath and looked appealingly at the mate.</p> + +<p>"It's a little surprise for you, my dear," he faltered, "it's Ted's young +lady."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind," said the mate, sharply.</p> + +<p>"It's not? How dare you say such a thing?" demanded Miss Harris, +stepping on to the deck.</p> + +<p>"Well, you brought her aboard, Ted, you know you did," pleaded the +unhappy skipper.</p> + +<p>The mate did not deny it, but his face was so full of grief and surprise +that the other's heart sank within him.</p> + +<p>"All right," said the mate at last; "have it your own way."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, Ted," shouted Mrs. Gibbs; "you're trying to shield +him."</p> + +<p>"I tell you Ted brought her aboard, and they had a lover's quarrel," said +her unhappy spouse. "It's nothing to do with me at all."</p> + +<p>"And that's why you told me Ted had got the toothache, and tried to get +me off to the chemist's, I s'pose," retorted his wife, with virulence. +"Do you think I'm a fool? How dare you ask a young woman on this barge? +How dare you?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask her," said her husband.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose she came without being asked," sneered his wife, turning her +regards to the passenger; "she looks the sort that might. You brazen-faced girl!"</p> + +<p>"Here, go easy, Loo," interrupted the mate, flushing as he saw the girl's +pale face.</p> + +<p>"Mind your own business," said his sister, violently.</p> + +<p>"It is my business," said the repentant mate. "I brought her aboard, and +then we quarrelled."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt," said his sister, bitterly; "it's very pretty, but it +won't do."</p> + +<p>"I swear it's the truth," said the mate.</p> + +<p>"Why did John keep it so quiet and hide her for, then?" demanded his +sister.</p> + +<p>"I came down for the trip," said Miss Harris; "that is all about it. +There is nothing to make a fuss about. How much is it, Captain Gibbs?"</p> + +<p>She produced a little purse from her pocket, but before the embarrassed +skipper could reply, his infuriated wife struck it out of her hand. The +mate sprang instinctively forward, but too late, and the purse fell with +a splash into the water. The girl gave a faint cry and clasped her +hands.</p> + +<p>"How am I to get back?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"I'll see to that, Lucy," said the mate. "I'm very sorry—I've been a +brute."</p> + +<p>"You?" said the indignant girl. "I would sooner drown myself than be +beholden to you."</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry," repeated the mate, humbly.</p> + +<p>"There's enough of this play-acting," interposed Mrs. Gibbs. "Get off +this barge."</p> + +<p>"You stay where you are," said the mate, authoritatively.</p> + +<p>"Send that girl off this barge," screamed Mrs. Gibbs to her husband.</p> + +<p>Captain Gibbs smiled in a silly fashion and scratched his head. "Where +is she to go?" he asked feebly.</p> + +<p>"Wh'at does it matter to you where she goes?" cried his wife, fiercely. +"Send her off."</p> + +<p>The girl eyed her haughtily, and repulsing the mate as he strove to +detain her, stepped to the side. Then she paused as he suddenly threw +off his coat, and sitting down on the hatch, hastily removed his boots. +The skipper, divining his intentions, seized him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Ted," he gasped; "you'll get under the barge."</p> + +<p>The mate shook him off, and went in with a splash which half drowned his +adviser. Miss Harris, clasping her hands, ran to the side and gazed +fearfully at the spot where he had disappeared, while his sister in a +terrible voice seized the opportunity to point out to her husband the +probably fatal results of his ill-doing. There was an anxious interval, +and then the mate's head appeared above the water, and after a breathing-space disappeared again. +The skipper, watching uneasily, stood by with a +lifebelt.</p> + +<p>"Come out, Ted," screamed his sister as he came up for breath again.</p> + +<p>The mate disappeared once more, but coming up for the third time, hung on +to the side of the barge to recover a bit. A clothed man in the water +savours of disaster and looks alarming. Miss Harris began to cry.</p> + +<p>"You'll be drowned," she whimpered.</p> + +<p>"Come out," said Mrs. Gibbs, in a raspy voice. She knelt on the deck and +twined her fingers in his hair. The mate addressed her in terms rendered +brotherly by pain.</p> + +<p>"Never mind about the purse," sobbed Miss Harris; "it doesn't matter."</p> + +<p>"Will you make it up if I come out, then," demanded the diver.</p> + +<p>"No; I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said the girl, +passionately.</p> + +<p>The mate disappeared again. This time he was out of sight longer than +usual, and when he came up merely tossed his arms weakly and went down +again. There was a scream from the women, and a mighty splash as the +skipper went overboard with a life-belt. The mate's head, black and +shining, showed for a moment; the skipper grabbed him by the hair and +towed him to the barge's side, and in the midst of a considerable hubbub +both men were drawn from the water.</p> + +<p>The skipper shook himself like a dog, but the mate lay on the deck inert +in a puddle of water. Mrs. Gibbs frantically slapped his hands; and Miss +Harris, bending over him, rendered first aid by kissing him wildly.</p> + +<p>Captain Gibbs pushed her away. "He won't come round while you're +a-kissing of him," he cried, roughly.</p> + +<p>To his indignant surprise the drowned man opened one eye and winked +acquiescence. The skipper dropped his arms by his side and stared at him +stupidly.</p> + +<p>"I saw his eyelid twitch," cried Mrs. Gibbs, joyfully.</p> + +<p>"He's all right," said her indignant husband; "'e ain't born to be +drowned, 'e ain't. I've spoilt a good suit of clothes for nothing."</p> + +<p>To his wife's amazement, he actually walked away from the insensible man, +and with a boathook reached for his hat, which was floating by. Mrs. +Gibbs, still gazing in blank astonishment, caught a seraphic smile on the +face of her brother as Miss Harris continued her ministrations, and in a +pardonable fit of temper the overwrought woman gave him a box on the ear, +which brought him round at once.</p> + +<p>"Where am I?" he inquired, artlessly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gibbs told him. She also told him her opinion of him, and without +plagiarizing her husband's words, came to the same conclusion as to his +ultimate fate.</p> + +<p>"You come along home with me," she said, turning in a friendly fashion to +the bewildered girl. "They deserve what they've got—both of 'em. I +only hope that they'll both get such awful colds that they won't find +their voices for a twelvemonth."</p> + +<p>She took the girl by the arm and helped her ashore. They turned their +heads once in the direction of the barge, and saw the justly incensed +skipper keeping the mate's explanations and apologies at bay with a boat-hook. Then they went in to breakfast.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + + + +<a name="c2"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +THE MONKEY'S PAW +</h2> +</center> +<br> + + +<p>I.</p> + +<p>Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam +Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son +were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving +radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils +that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting +placidly by the fire.</p> + +<p>"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake +after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from +seeing it.</p> + +<p>"I'm listening," said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he +stretched out his hand. "Check."</p> + +<p>"I should hardly think that he'd come to-night," said his father, with +his hand poised over the board.</p> + +<p>"Mate," replied the son.</p> + +<p>"That's the worst of living so far out," bawled Mr. White, with sudden +and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way +places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway's a bog, and the road's a +torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because +only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn't matter."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dear," said his wife, soothingly; "perhaps you'll win the +next one."</p> + +<p>Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance +between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a +guilty grin in his thin grey beard.</p> + +<p>"There he is," said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy +footsteps came toward the door.</p> + +<p>The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard +condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with +himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her +husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and +rubicund of visage.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him.</p> + +<p>The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the +fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers and +stood a small copper kettle on the fire.</p> + +<p>At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the +little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from +distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke +of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange +peoples.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-one years of it," said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. +"When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look +at him."</p> + +<p>"He don't look to have taken much harm," said Mrs. White, politely.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to go to India myself," said the old man, "just to look round a +bit, you know."</p> + +<p>"Better where you are," said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He +put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers," said +the old man. "What was that you started telling me the other day about a +monkey's paw or something, Morris?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said the soldier, hastily. "Leastways nothing worth hearing."</p> + +<p>"Monkey's paw?" said Mrs. White, curiously.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps," said the +sergeant-major, offhandedly.</p> + +<p>His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly +put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host +filled it for him.</p> + +<p>"To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just +an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."</p> + +<p>He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew +back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.</p> + +<p>"And what is there special about it?" inquired Mr. White as he took it +from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.</p> + +<p>"It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major, +"a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and +that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell +on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it."</p> + +<p>His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their +light laughter jarred somewhat.</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you have three, sir?" said Herbert White, cleverly.</p> + +<p>The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard +presumptuous youth. "I have," he said, quietly, and his blotchy face +whitened.</p> + +<p>"And did you really have the three wishes granted?" asked Mrs. White.</p> + +<p>"I did," said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong +teeth.</p> + +<p>"And has anybody else wished?" persisted the old lady.</p> + +<p>"The first man had his three wishes. Yes," was the reply; "I don't know +what the first two were, but the third was for death. That's how I got +the paw."</p> + +<p>His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.</p> + +<p>"If you've had your three wishes, it's no good to you now, then, Morris," +said the old man at last. "What do you keep it for?"</p> + +<p>The soldier shook his head. "Fancy, I suppose," he said, slowly. "I did +have some idea of selling it, but I don't think I will. It has caused +enough mischief already. Besides, people won't buy. They think it's a +fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to +try it first and pay me afterward."</p> + +<p>"If you could have another three wishes," said the old man, eyeing him +keenly, "would you have them?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said the other. "I don't know."</p> + +<p>He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, +suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down +and snatched it off.</p> + +<p>"Better let it burn," said the soldier, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"If you don't want it, Morris," said the other, "give it to me."</p> + +<p>"I won't," said his friend, doggedly. "I threw it on the fire. If you +keep it, don't blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again +like a sensible man."</p> + +<p>The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. "How +do you do it?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud," said the sergeant-major, +"but I warn you of the consequences."</p> + +<p>"Sounds like the Arabian Nights," said Mrs. White, as she rose and began +to set the supper. "Don't you think you might wish for four pairs of +hands for me?"</p> + +<p>Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst into +laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught +him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"If you must wish," he said, gruffly, "wish for something sensible."</p> + +<p>Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his +friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly +forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion +to a second instalment of the soldier's adventures in India.</p> + +<p>"If the tale about the monkey's paw is not more truthful than those he +has been telling us," said Herbert, as the door closed behind their +guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, "we sha'nt make much +out of it."</p> + +<p>"Did you give him anything for it, father?" inquired Mrs. White, +regarding her husband closely.</p> + +<p>"A trifle," said he, colouring slightly. "He didn't want it, but I made +him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away."</p> + +<p>"Likely," said Herbert, with pretended horror. "Why, we're going to be +rich, and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin +with; then you can't be henpecked."</p> + +<p>He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with +an antimacassar.</p> + +<p>Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. "I don't +know what to wish for, and that's a fact," he said, slowly. "It seems to +me I've got all I want."</p> + +<p>"If you only cleared the house, you'd be quite happy, wouldn't you?" +said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. "Well, wish for two hundred +pounds, then; that 'll just do it."</p> + +<p>His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the +talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at +his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.</p> + +<p>"I wish for two hundred pounds," said the old man distinctly.</p> + +<p>A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a +shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.</p> + +<p>"It moved," he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on +the floor.</p> + +<p>"As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see the money," said his son as he picked it up and placed +it on the table, "and I bet I never shall."</p> + +<p>"It must have been your fancy, father," said his wife, regarding him +anxiously.</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "Never mind, though; there's no harm done, but it +gave me a shock all the same."</p> + +<p>They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. +Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously +at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and +depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose +to retire for the night.</p> + +<p>"I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your +bed," said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, "and something horrible +squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your +ill-gotten gains."</p> + +<p>He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces +in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it +in amazement.' It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt +on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it. His +hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand +on his coat and went up to bed.</p> + +<br><br> + +<p>II.</p> + +<p>In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the +breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic +wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, +and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a +carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.</p> + +<p>"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs. White. "The idea of +our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these +days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?"</p> + +<p>"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.</p> + +<p>"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said' his father, "that +you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert as he +rose from the table. "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious +man, and we shall have to disown you."</p> + +<p>His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the +road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense +of her husband's credulity. All of which did not prevent her from +scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from +referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits +when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill.</p> + +<p>"Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he +comes home," she said, as they sat at dinner.</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for all +that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to."</p> + +<p>"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.</p> + +<p>"I say it did," replied the other. "There was no thought about it; I had +just—- What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a +man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared +to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the +two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and +wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, +and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon +it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path. +Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly +unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel +beneath the cushion of her chair.</p> + +<p>She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He +gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old +lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a +garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as +patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he +was at first strangely silent.</p> + +<p>"I—was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece +of cotton from his trousers. "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'"</p> + +<p>The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked, +breathlessly. "Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is +it?"</p> + +<p>Her husband interposed. "There, there, mother," he said, hastily. "Sit +down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm +sure, sir;" and he eyed the other wistfully.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry—" began the visitor.</p> + +<p>"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother, wildly.</p> + +<p>The visitor bowed in assent. "Badly hurt," he said, quietly, "but he is +not in any pain."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands. "Thank God for +that! Thank—"</p> + +<p>She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned +upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's +perverted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted +husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.</p> + +<p>"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes."</p> + +<p>He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife's hand +between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old +courting-days nearly forty years before.</p> + +<p>"He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor. +"It is hard."</p> + +<p>The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. "The firm +wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss," +he said, without looking round. "I beg that you will understand I am +only their servant and merely obeying orders."</p> + +<p>There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring, and +her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend +the sergeant might have carried into his first action.</p> + +<p>"I was to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility," +continued the other. "They admit no liability at all, but in +consideration of your son's services, they wish to present you with +a certain sum as compensation."</p> + +<p>Mr. White dropped his wife's hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a +look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, "How +much?"</p> + +<p>"Two hundred pounds," was the answer.</p> + +<p>Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his +hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.</p> + +<br><br> +<p> +III.</p> + +<p>In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried +their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It +was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and +remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to happen +—something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts +to bear.</p> + +<p>But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the +hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes +they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and +their days were long to weariness.</p> + +<p>It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night, +stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in +darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He +raised himself in bed and listened.</p> + +<p>"Come back," he said, tenderly. "You will be cold."</p> + +<p>"It is colder for my son," said the old woman, and wept afresh.</p> + +<p>The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his +eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden +wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.</p> + +<p>"The paw!" she cried wildly. "The monkey's paw!"</p> + +<p>He started up in alarm. "Where? Where is it? What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>She came stumbling across the room toward him. "I want it," she said, +quietly. "You've not destroyed it?"</p> + +<p>"It's in the parlour, on the bracket," he replied, marvelling. "Why?"</p> + +<p>She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.</p> + +<p>"I only just thought of it," she said, hysterically. "Why didn't I think +of it before? Why didn't you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Think of what?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>"The other two wishes," she replied, rapidly.</p> + +<p>"We've only had one."</p> + +<p>"Was not that enough?" he demanded, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"No," she cried, triumphantly; "we'll have one more. Go down and get it +quickly, and wish our boy alive again."</p> + +<p>The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. +"Good God, you are mad!" he cried, aghast.</p> + +<p>"Get it," she panted; "get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!"</p> + +<p>Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. "Get back to bed," he +said, unsteadily. "You don't know what you are saying."</p> + +<p>"We had the first wish granted," said the old woman, feverishly; "why not +the second?"</p> + +<p>"A coincidence," stammered the old man.</p> + +<p>"Go and get it and wish," cried his wife, quivering with excitement.</p> + +<p>The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. "He has been +dead ten days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could +only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to +see then, how now?"</p> + +<p>"Bring him back," cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. +"Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?"</p> + +<p>He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then +to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear +that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he +could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as +he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with +sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until +he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his +hand.</p> + +<p>Even his wife's face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white +and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. +He was afraid of her.</p> + +<p>"Wish!" she cried, in a strong voice.</p> + +<p>"It is foolish and wicked," he faltered.</p> + +<p>"Wish!" repeated his wife.</p> + +<p>He raised his hand. "I wish my son alive again."</p> + +<p>The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he +sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked +to the window and raised the blind.</p> + +<p>He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the +figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, +which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing +pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger +than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable sense of +relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, and a +minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically +beside him.</p> + +<p>Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A +stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. +The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up +his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went +downstairs for a candle.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike +another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be +scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.</p> + +<p>The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood +motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he +turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. +A third knock sounded through the house.</p> + +<a name="002"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="002.jpg (73K)" src="images/002.jpg" height="725" width="503"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"What's that?" cried the old woman, starting up.</p> + +<p>"A rat," said the old man in shaking tones—"a rat. It passed me on the +stairs."</p> + +<p>His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the +house.</p> + +<p>"It's Herbert!" she screamed. "It's Herbert!"</p> + +<p>She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by +the arm, held her tightly.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" he whispered hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"It's my boy; it's Herbert!" she cried, struggling mechanically. +"I forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. +I must open the door.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake don't let it in," cried the old man, trembling.</p> + +<p>"You're afraid of your own son," she cried, struggling. "Let me go. I'm +coming, Herbert; I'm coming."</p> + +<p>There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench +broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, +and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the +chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the +socket. Then the old woman's voice, strained and panting.</p> + +<p>"The bolt," she cried, loudly. "Come down. I can't reach it."</p> + +<p>But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in +search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside got +in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he +heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage +against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly +back, and at the same moment he found the monkey's paw, and frantically +breathed his third and last wish.</p> + +<p>The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the +house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind +rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and +misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then +to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet +and deserted road.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + + + +<a name="c3"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +BILL'S PAPER CHASE +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>Sailormen 'ave their faults, said the night watchman, frankly. I'm not +denying of it. I used to 'ave myself when I was at sea, but being close +with their money is a fault as can seldom be brought ag'in 'em.</p> + +<p>I saved some money once—two golden sovereigns, owing to a 'ole in my +pocket. Before I got another ship I slept two nights on a doorstep and +'ad nothing to eat, and I found them two sovereigns in the lining o' my +coat when I was over two thousand miles away from the nearest pub.</p> + +<p>I on'y knew one miser all the years I was at sea. Thomas Geary 'is name +was, and we was shipmates aboard the barque <i>Grenada,</i> homeward bound from +Sydney to London.</p> + +<p>Thomas was a man that was getting into years; sixty, I think 'e was, and +old enough to know better. 'E'd been saving 'ard for over forty years, +and as near as we could make out 'e was worth a matter o' six 'undered +pounds. He used to be fond o' talking about it, and letting us know how +much better off 'e was than any of the rest of us.</p> + +<p>We was about a month out from Sydney when old Thomas took sick. Bill +Hicks said that it was owing to a ha'penny he couldn't account for; but +Walter Jones, whose family was always ill, and thought 'e knew a lot +about it, said that 'e knew wot it was, but 'e couldn't remember the name +of it, and that when we got to London and Thomas saw a doctor, we should +see as 'ow 'e was right.</p> + +<p>Whatever it was the old man got worse and worse. The skipper came down +and gave 'im some physic and looked at 'is tongue, and then 'e looked at +our tongues to see wot the difference was. Then 'e left the cook in +charge of 'im and went off.</p> + +<p>The next day Thomas was worse, and it was soon clear to everybody but 'im +that 'e was slipping 'is cable. He wouldn't believe it at first, though +the cook told 'im, Bill Hicks told him, and Walter Jones 'ad a +grandfather that went off in just the same way.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to die," says Thomas "How can I die and leave all that +money?"</p> + +<p>"It'll be good for your relations, Thomas," says Walter Jones.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got any," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"Well, your friends, then, Thomas," says Walter, soft-like.</p> + +<p>"Ain't got any," says the old man ag'in.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you 'ave, Thomas," says Walter, with a kind smile; "I could tell +you one you've got."</p> + +<p>Thomas shut his eyes at 'im and began to talk pitiful about 'is money and +the 'ard work 'e'd 'ad saving of it. And by-and-by 'e got worse, and +didn't reckernise us, but thought we was a pack o' greedy, drunken +sailormen. He thought Walter Jones was a shark, and told 'im so, and, +try all 'e could, Walter couldn't persuade 'im different.</p> + +<p>He died the day arter. In the morning 'e was whimpering about 'is money +ag'in, and angry with Bill when 'e reminded 'im that 'e couldn't take it +with 'im, and 'e made Bill promise that 'e should be buried just as 'e +was. Bill tucked him up arter that, and when 'e felt a canvas belt tied +round the old man's waist 'e began to see wot 'e was driving at.</p> + +<p>The weather was dirty that day and there was a bit o' sea running, +consequently all 'ands was on deck, and a boy about sixteen wot used to +'elp the steward down aft was lookin' arter Thomas. Me and Bill just run +down to give a look at the old man in time.</p> + +<p>"I am going to take it with me, Bill," says the old man.</p> + +<p>"That's right," says Bill.</p> + +<p>"My mind's—easy now," says Thomas. "I gave it to Jimmy—to—to—throw +overboard for me."</p> + +<p>"Wot?" says Bill, staring.</p> + +<p>"That's right, Bill," says the boy. "He told me to. It was a little +packet o' banknotes. He gave me tuppence for doing it."</p> + +<p>Old Thomas seemed to be listening. 'Is eyes was open, and 'e looked +artful at Bill to think what a clever thing 'e'd done.</p> + +<p>"Nobody's goin'-to spend-my money," 'e says. "Nobody's"</p> + +<p>We drew back from 'is bunk and stood staring at 'im. Then Bill turned to +the boy.</p> + +<p>"Go and tell the skipper 'e's gone," 'e says, "and mind, for your own +sake, don't tell the skipper or anybody else that you've thrown all that +money overboard."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" says Jimmy.</p> + +<p>"Becos you'll be locked up for it," says Bill; "you'd no business to do +it. You've been and broke the law. It ought to ha' been left to +somebody."</p> + +<p>Jimmy looked scared, and arter 'e was gone I turned to Bill, and I looks +at 'im and I says "What's the little game, Bill?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Game</i>?" said Bill, snorting at me. "I don't want the pore boy to get +into trouble, do I? Pore little chap. You was young yourself once."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I says; "but I'm a bit older now, Bill, and unless you tell me +what your little game is, I shall tell the skipper myself, and the chaps +too. Pore old Thomas told 'im to do it, so where's the boy to blame?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think Jimmy did?" says Bill, screwing up his nose at me. "That +little varmint is walking about worth six 'undered quid. Now you keep +your mouth shut and I'll make it worth your while."</p> + +<p>Then I see Bill's game. "All right, I'll keep quiet for the sake of my +half," I says, looking at 'im.</p> + +<p>I thought he'd ha' choked, and the langwidge 'e see fit to use was a'most +as much as I could answer.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," 'e says, at last, "halves it is. It ain't robbery +becos it belongs to nobody, and it ain't the boy's becos 'e was told to +throw it overboard."</p> + +<p>They buried pore old Thomas next morning, and arter it was all over Bill +put 'is 'and on the boy's shoulder as they walked for'ard and 'e says, +"Poor old Thomas 'as gone to look for 'is money," he says; "wonder +whether 'e'll find it! Was it a big bundle, Jimmy?"</p> + +<p>"No," says the boy, shaking 'is 'ead. "They was six 'undered pound notes +and two sovereigns, and I wrapped the sovereigns up in the notes to make +'em sink. Fancy throwing money away like that, Bill: seems a sin, don't +it?"</p> + +<p>Bill didn't answer 'im, and that afternoon the other chaps below being +asleep we searched 'is bunk through and through without any luck, and at +last Bill sat down and swore 'e must ha' got it about 'im.</p> + +<p>We waited till night, and when everybody was snoring 'ard we went over to +the boy's bunk and went all through 'is pockets and felt the linings, and +then we went back to our side and Bill said wot 'e thought about Jimmy in +whispers.</p> + +<p>"He must ha' got it tied round 'is waist next to 'is skin, like Thomas +'ad," I says.</p> + +<p>We stood there in the dark whispering, and then Bill couldn't stand it +any longer, and 'e went over on tiptoe to the bunk ag'in. He was +tremblin' with excitement and I wasn't much better, when all of a sudden +the cook sat up in 'is bunk with a dreadful laughing scream and called +out that somebody was ticklin' 'im.</p> + +<p>I got into my bunk and Bill got into 'is, and we lay there listening +while the cook, who was a terrible ticklish man, leaned out of 'is bunk +and said wot 'e'd do if it 'appened ag'in.</p> + +<p>"Go to sleep," says Walter Jones; "you're dreamin'. Who d'you think +would want to tickle you?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you," says the cook, "somebody come over and tickled me with a +'and the size of a leg o' mutton. I feel creepy all over."</p> + +<p>Bill gave it up for that night, but the next day 'e pretended to think +Jimmy was gettin' fat an' 'e caught 'old of 'im and prodded 'im all over. +He thought 'e felt something round 'is waist, but 'e couldn't be sure, +and Jimmy made such a noise that the other chaps interfered and told Bill +to leave 'im alone. For a whole week we tried to find that money, and +couldn't, and Bill said it was a suspicious thing that Jimmy kept aft a +good deal more than 'e used to, and 'e got an idea that the boy might ha' +'idden it somewhere there. At the end of that time, 'owever, owing to +our being short-'anded, Jimmy was sent for'ard to work as ordinary +seaman, and it began to be quite noticeable the way 'e avoided Bill.</p> + +<p>At last one day we got 'im alone down the fo'c'sle, and Bill put 'is arm +round 'im and got im on the locker and asked 'im straight out where the +money was.</p> + +<p>"Why, I chucked it overboard," he says. "I told you so afore. What a +memory you've got, Bill!"</p> + +<p>Bill picked 'im up and laid 'im on the locker, and we searched 'im +thoroughly. We even took 'is boots off, and then we 'ad another look in +'is bunk while 'e was putting 'em on ag'in.</p> + +<p>"If you're innercent," says Bill, "why don't you call out?—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Because you told me not to say anything about it, Bill," says the boy. +"But I will next time. Loud, I will."</p> + +<p>"Look 'ere," says Bill, "you tell us where it is, and the three of us'll +go shares in it. That'll be two 'undered pounds each, and we'll tell you +'ow to get yours changed without getting caught. We're cleverer than you +are, you know."</p> + +<p>"I know that, Bill," says the boy; "but it's no good me telling you lies. +I chucked it overboard."</p> + +<p>"Very good, then," says Bill, getting up. "I'm going to tell the +skipper."</p> + +<p>"Tell 'im," says Jimmy. "I don't care."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll be searched arter you've stepped ashore," says Bill, "and +you won't be allowed on the ship ag'in. You'll lose it all by being +greedy, whereas if you go shares with us you'll 'ave two 'undered +pounds."</p> + +<p>I could see as 'ow the boy 'adn't thought o' that, and try as 'e would 'e +couldn't 'ide 'is feelin's. He called Bill a red-nosed shark, and 'e +called me somethin' I've forgotten now.</p> + +<p>"Think it over," says Bill; "mind, you'll be collared as soon as you've +left the gangway and searched by the police."</p> + +<p>"And will they tickle the cook too, I wonder?" says Jimmy, savagely.</p> + +<p>"And if they find it you'll go to prison," says Bill, giving 'im a clump +o' the side o' the 'ead, "and you won't like that, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Why, ain't it nice, Bill?" says Jimmy, holding 'is ear.</p> + +<p>Bill looked at 'im and then 'e steps to the ladder. "I'm not going to +talk to you any more, my lad," 'e says. "I'm going to tell the skipper."</p> + +<p>He went up slowly, and just as 'e reached the deck Jimmy started up and +called 'im. Bill pretended not to 'ear, and the boy ran up on deck and +follered 'im; and arter a little while they both came down again +together.</p> + +<p>"Did you wish to speak to me, my lad?" says Bill, 'olding 'is 'ead up.</p> + +<p>"Yes," says the boy, fiddling with 'is fingers; "if you keep your ugly +mouth shut, we'll go shares."</p> + +<p>"Ho!" says Bill, "I thought you throwed it overboard!"</p> + +<p>"I thought so, too, Bill," says Jimmy, very softly, "and when I came +below ag'in I found it in my trousers pocket."</p> + +<p>"Where is it now?" says Bill.</p> + +<p>"Never mind where it is," says the boy; "you couldn't get it if I was to +tell you. It'll take me all my time to do it myself."</p> + +<p>"Where is it?" says Bill, ag'in. "I'm goin' to take care of it. I +won't trust you."</p> + +<p>"And I can't trust you," says Jimmy.</p> + +<p>"If you don't tell me where it is this minute," says Bill, moving to the +ladder ag'in, "I'm off to tell the skipper. I want it in my 'ands, or at +any rate my share of it. Why not share it out now?"</p> + +<p>"Because I 'aven't got it," says Jimmy, stamping 'is foot, "that's why, +and it's all your silly fault. Arter you came pawing through my pockets +when you thought I was asleep I got frightened and 'id it."</p> + +<p>"Where?" says Bill.</p> + +<p>"In the second mate's mattress," says Jimmy. "I was tidying up down aft +and I found a 'ole in the underneath side of 'is mattress and I shoved it +in there, and poked it in with a bit o' stick."</p> + +<p>"And 'ow are you going to get it?" says Bill, scratching 'is 'ead.</p> + +<p>"That's wot I don't know, seeing that I'm not allowed aft now," says +Jimmy. "One of us'll 'ave to make a dash for it when we get to London. +And mind if there's any 'ankypanky on your part, Bill, I'll give the show +away myself."</p> + +<p>The cook came down just then and we 'ad to leave off talking, and I could +see that Bill was so pleased at finding that the money 'adn't been thrown +overboard that 'e was losing sight o' the difficulty o' getting at it. +In a day or two, 'owever, 'e see it as plain as me and Jimmy did, and, as +time went by, he got desprit, and frightened us both by 'anging about aft +every chance 'e got.</p> + +<p>The companion-way faced the wheel, and there was about as much chance o' +getting down there without being seen as there would be o' taking a man's +false teeth out of 'is mouth without 'is knowing it. Jimmy went down one +day while Bill was at the wheel to look for 'is knife, wot 'e thought +'e'd left down there, and 'ed 'ardly got down afore Bill saw 'im come up +ag'in, 'olding on to the top of a mop which the steward was using.</p> + +<p>We couldn't figure it out nohow, and to think o' the second mate, a +little man with a large fam'ly, who never 'ad a penny in 'is pocket, +sleeping every night on a six 'undered pound mattress, sent us pretty +near crazy. We used to talk it over whenever we got a chance, and Bill +and Jimmy could scarcely be civil to each other. The boy said it was +Bill's fault, and 'e said it was the boy's.</p> + +<p>"The on'y thing I can see," says the boy, one day, "is for Bill to 'ave a +touch of sunstroke as 'e's leaving the wheel one day, tumble 'ead-first +down the companion-way, and injure 'isself so severely that 'e can't be +moved. Then they'll put 'im in a cabin down aft, and p'raps I'll 'ave to +go and nurse 'im. Anyway, he'll be down there."</p> + +<p>"It's a very good idea, Bill," I says.</p> + +<p>"Ho," says Bill, looking at me as if 'e would eat me. "Why don't you do +it, then?"</p> + +<p>"I'd sooner you did it, Bill," says the boy; "still, I don't mind which +it is. Why not toss up for it?"</p> + +<p>"Get away," says Bill. "Get away afore I do something you won't like, +you blood-thirsty little murderer."</p> + +<p>"I've got a plan myself," he says, in a low voice, after the boy 'ad +'opped off, "and if I can't think of nothing better I'll try it, and +mind, not a word to the boy."</p> + +<p>He didn't think o' nothing better, and one night just as we was making +the Channel 'e tried 'is plan. He was in the second mate's watch, and +by-and-by 'e leans over the wheel and says to 'im in a low voice, "This +is my last v'y'ge, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh," says the second mate, who was a man as didn't mind talking to a man +before the mast. "How's that?"</p> + +<p>"I've got a berth ashore, sir," says Bill, "and I wanted to ask a favour, +sir."</p> + +<p>The second mate growled and walked off a pace or two.</p> + +<p>"I've never been so 'appy as I've been on this ship," says Bill; "none of +us 'ave. We was saying so the other night, and everybody agreed as it +was owing to you, sir, and your kindness to all of us."</p> + +<p>The second mate coughed, but Bill could see as 'e was a bit pleased.</p> + +<p>"The feeling came over me," says Bill, "that when I leave the sea for +good I'd like to 'ave something o' yours to remember you by, sir. And it +seemed to me that if I 'ad your—mattress I should think of you ev'ry +night o' my life."</p> + +<p>"My wot?" says the second mate, staring at 'im. "Your mattress, sir," +says Bill. "If I might make so bold as to offer a pound for it, sir. I +want something wot's been used by you, and I've got a fancy for that as a +keepsake." The second mate shook 'is 'ead. "I'm sorry, Bill," 'e says, +gently, "but I couldn't let it go at that."</p> + +<p>"I'd sooner pay thirty shillin's than not 'ave it, sir," says Bill, +'umbly.</p> + +<p>"I gave a lot of money for that mattress," says the mate, ag'in. "I +forgit 'ow much, but a lot. You don't know 'ow valuable that mattress +is."</p> + +<p>"I know it's a good one, sir, else you wouldn't 'ave it," says Bill. +"Would a couple o' pounds buy it, sir?"</p> + +<p>The second mate hum'd and ha'd, but Bill was afeard to go any 'igher. So +far as 'e could make out from Jimmy, the mattress was worth about +eighteen pence—to anybody who wasn't pertiklar.</p> + +<p>"I've slept on that mattress for years," says the second mate, looking at +'im from the corner of 'is eye. "I don't believe I could sleep on +another. Still, to oblige you, Bill, you shall 'ave it at that if you +don't want it till we go ashore?"</p> + +<p>"Thankee, sir," says Bill, 'ardly able to keep from dancing, "and I'll +'and over the two pounds when we're paid off. I shall keep it all my +life, sir, in memory of you and your kindness."</p> + +<p>"And mind you keep quiet about it," says the second mate, who didn't want +the skipper to know wot 'e'd been doing, "because I don't want to be +bothered by other men wanting to buy things as keepsakes."</p> + +<p>Bill promised 'im like a shot, and when 'e told me about it 'e was nearly +crying with joy.</p> + +<p>"And mind," 'e says, "I've bought that mattress, bought it as it stands, +and it's got nothing to do with Jimmy. We'll each pay a pound and halve +wot's in it."</p> + +<p>He persuaded me at last, but that boy watched us like a cat watching a +couple of canaries, and I could see we should 'ave all we could do to +deceive 'im. He seemed more suspicious o' Bill than me, and 'e kep' +worrying us nearly every day to know what we were going to do.</p> + +<p>We beat about in the channel with a strong 'ead-wind for four days, and +then a tug picked us up and towed us to London.</p> + +<p>The excitement of that last little bit was 'orrible. Fust of all we 'ad +got to get the mattress, and then in some way we 'ad got to get rid o' +Jimmy. Bill's idea was for me to take 'im ashore with me and tell 'im +that Bill would join us arterwards, and then lose 'im; but I said that +till I'd got my share I couldn't bear to lose sight o' Bill's honest face +for 'alf a second.</p> + +<p>And, besides, Jimmy wouldn't 'ave gone.</p> + +<p>All the way up the river 'e stuck to Bill, and kept asking 'im wot we +were to do. 'E was 'alf crying, and so excited that Bill was afraid the +other chaps would notice it.</p> + +<p>We got to our berth in the East India Docks at last, and arter we were +made fast we went below to 'ave a wash and change into our shoregoing +togs. Jimmy watched us all the time, and then 'e comes up to Bill biting +'is nails, and says:</p> + +<p>"How's it to be done, Bill?"</p> + +<p>"Hang about arter the rest 'ave gone ashore, and trust to luck," says +Bill, looking at me. "We'll see 'ow the land lays when we draw our +advance."</p> + +<p>We went down aft to draw ten shillings each to go ashore with. Bill and +me got ours fust, and then the second mate who 'ad tipped 'im the wink +followed us out unconcerned-like and 'anded Bill the mattress rolled up +in a sack.</p> + +<p>"'Ere you are, Bill," 'e says.</p> + +<p>"Much obliged, sir," says Bill, and 'is 'ands trembled so as 'e could +'ardly 'old it, and 'e made to go off afore Jimmy come on deck.</p> + +<p>Then that fool of a mate kept us there while 'e made a little speech. +Twice Bill made to go off, but 'e put 'is 'and on 'is arm and kept 'im +there while 'e told 'im 'ow he'd always tried to be liked by the men, and +'ad generally succeeded, and in the middle of it up popped Master Jimmy.</p> + +<p>He gave a start as he saw the bag, and 'is eyes opened wide, and then as +we walked forward 'e put 'is arm through Bill's and called 'im all the +names 'e could think of.</p> + +<p>"You'd steal the milk out of a cat's saucer," 'e says; "but mind, you +don't leave this ship till I've got my share."</p> + +<p>"I meant it for a pleasant surprise for you, Jimmy," says Bill, trying to +smile.</p> + +<p>"I don't like your surprises, Bill, so I don't deceive you," says the +boy. "Where are you going to open it?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of opening it in my bunk," says Bill. "The perlice might +want to examine it if we took it through the dock. Come on, Jimmy, old +man."</p> + +<p>"Yes; all right," says the boy, nodding 'is 'ead at 'im. "I'll stay up +'ere. You might forget yourself, Bill, if I trusted myself down there +with you alone. You can throw my share up to me, and then you'll leave +the ship afore I do. See?"</p> + +<p>"Go to blazes," says Bill; and then, seeing that the last chance 'ad +gone, we went below, and 'e chucked the bundle in 'is bunk. There was +only one chap down there, and arter spending best part o' ten minutes +doing 'is hair 'e nodded to us and went off.</p> + +<p>Half a minute later Bill cut open the mattress and began to search +through the stuffing, while I struck matches and watched 'im. It wasn't +a big mattress and there wasn't much stuffing, but we couldn't seem to +see that money. Bill went all over it ag'in and ag'in, and then 'e stood +up and looked at me and caught 'is breath painful.</p> + +<p>"Do you think the mate found it?" 'e says, in a 'usky voice.</p> + +<p>We went through it ag'in, and then Bill went half-way up the fo'c's'le +ladder and called softly for Jimmy. He called three times, and then, +with a sinking sensation in 'is stummick, 'e went up on deck and I +follered 'im. The boy was nowhere to be seen. All we saw was the ship's +cat 'aving a wash and brush-up afore going ashore, and the skipper +standing aft talking to the owner.</p> + +<p>We never saw that boy ag'in. He never turned up for 'is box, and 'e +didn't show up to draw 'is pay. Everybody else was there, of course, and +arter I'd got mine and come outside I see pore Bill with 'is back up +ag'in a wall, staring 'ard at the second mate, who was looking at 'im +with a kind smile, and asking 'im 'ow he'd slept. The last thing I saw +of Bill, the pore chap 'ad got 'is 'ands in 'is trousers pockets, and was +trying 'is hardest to smile back.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + +<a name="c4"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +THE WELL +</h2> +</center> +<br> + + +<p>Two men stood in the billiard-room of an old country house, talking. +Play, which had been of a half-hearted nature, was over, and they sat at +the open window, looking out over the park stretching away beneath them, +conversing idly.</p> + +<p>"Your time's nearly up, Jem," said one at length, "this time six weeks +you'll be yawning out the honeymoon and cursing the man—woman I mean— +who invented them."</p> + +<p>Jem Benson stretched his long limbs in the chair and grunted in dissent.</p> + +<p>"I've never understood it," continued Wilfred Carr, yawning. "It's not +in my line at all; I never had enough money for my own wants, let alone +for two. Perhaps if I were as rich as you or Croesus I might regard it +differently."</p> + +<p>There was just sufficient meaning in the latter part of the remark for +his cousin to forbear to reply to it. He continued to gaze out of the +window and to smoke slowly.</p> + +<p>"Not being as rich as Croesus—or you," resumed Carr, regarding him from +beneath lowered lids, "I paddle my own canoe down the stream of Time, +and, tying it to my friends' door-posts, go in to eat their dinners."</p> + +<p>"Quite Venetian," said Jem Benson, still looking out of the window. +"It's not a bad thing for you, Wilfred, that you have the doorposts and +dinners—and friends."</p> + +<p>Carr grunted in his turn. "Seriously though, Jem," he said, slowly, +"you're a lucky fellow, a very lucky fellow. If there is a better girl +above ground than Olive, I should like to see her."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other, quietly.</p> + +<p>"She's such an exceptional girl," continued Carr, staring out of the +window. "She's so good and gentle. She thinks you are a bundle of all +the virtues."</p> + +<p>He laughed frankly and joyously, but the other man did not join him. +"Strong sense—of right and wrong, though," continued Carr, musingly. +"Do you know, I believe that if she found out that you were not—-"</p> + +<p>"Not what?" demanded Benson, turning upon him fiercely, "Not what?"</p> + +<p>"Everything that you are," returned his cousin, with a grin that belied +his words, "I believe she'd drop you."</p> + +<p>"Talk about something else," said Benson, slowly; "your pleasantries are +not always in the best taste."</p> + +<p>Wilfred Carr rose and taking a cue from the rack, bent over the board and +practiced one or two favourite shots. "The only other subject I can talk +about just at present is my own financial affairs," he said slowly, as he +walked round the table.</p> + +<p>"Talk about something else," said Benson again, bluntly.</p> + +<p>"And the two things are connected," said Carr, and dropping his cue he +half sat on the table and eyed his cousin.</p> + +<p>There was a long silence. Benson pitched the end of his cigar out of the +window, and leaning back closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Do you follow me?" inquired Carr at length.</p> + +<p>Benson opened his eyes and nodded at the window.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to follow my cigar?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I should prefer to depart by the usual way for your sake," returned the +other, unabashed. "If I left by the window all sorts of questions would +be asked, and you know what a talkative chap I am."</p> + +<p>"So long as you don't talk about my affairs," returned the other, +restraining himself by an obvious effort, "you can talk yourself hoarse."</p> + +<p>"I'm in a mess," said Carr, slowly, "a devil of a mess. If I don't raise +fifteen hundred by this day fortnight, I may be getting my board and +lodging free."</p> + +<p>"Would that be any change?" questioned Benson.</p> + +<p>"The quality would," retorted the other. "The address also would not be +good. Seriously, Jem, will you let me have the fifteen hundred?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the other, simply.</p> + +<p>Carr went white. "It's to save me from ruin," he said, thickly.</p> + +<p>"I've helped you till I'm tired," said Benson, turning and regarding him, +"and it is all to no good. If you've got into a mess, get out of it. +You should not be so fond of giving autographs away."</p> + +<p>"It's foolish, I admit," said Carr, deliberately. "I won't do so any +more. By the way, I've got some to sell. You needn't sneer. They're +not my own."</p> + +<p>"Whose are they?" inquired the other.</p> + +<p>"Yours."</p> + +<p>Benson got up from his chair and crossed over to him. "What is this?" +he asked, quietly. "Blackmail?"</p> + +<p>"Call it what you like," said Carr. "I've got some letters for sale, +price fifteen hundred. And I know a man who would buy them at that price +for the mere chance of getting Olive from you. I'll give you first +offer."</p> + +<p>"If you have got any letters bearing my signature, you will be good +enough to give them to me," said Benson, very slowly.</p> + +<p>"They're mine," said Carr, lightly; "given to me by the lady you wrote +them to. I must say that they are not all in the best possible taste."</p> + +<p>His cousin reached forward suddenly, and catching him by the collar of +his coat pinned him down on the table.</p> + +<p>"Give me those letters," he breathed, sticking his face close to Carr's.</p> + +<p>"They're not here," said Carr, struggling. "I'm not a fool. Let me go, +or I'll raise the price."</p> + +<p>The other man raised him from the table in his powerful hands, apparently +with the intention of dashing his head against it. Then suddenly his +hold relaxed as an astonished-looking maid-servant entered the room with +letters. Carr sat up hastily.</p> + +<p>"That's how it was done," said Benson, for the girl's benefit as he took +the letters.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder at the other man making him pay for it, then," said Carr, +blandly.</p> + +<p>"You will give me those letters?" said Benson, suggestively, as the girl +left the room.</p> + +<p>"At the price I mentioned, yes," said Carr; "but so sure as I am a living +man, if you lay your clumsy hands on me again, I'll double it. Now, I'll +leave you for a time while you think it over."</p> + +<p>He took a cigar from the box and lighting it carefully quitted the room. +His cousin waited until the door had closed behind him, and then turning +to the window sat there in a fit of fury as silent as it was terrible.</p> + +<p>The air was fresh and sweet from the park, heavy with the scent of +new-mown grass. The fragrance of a cigar was now added to it, and +glancing out he saw his cousin pacing slowly by. He rose and went to the +door, and then, apparently altering his mind, he returned to the window +and watched the figure of his cousin as it moved slowly away into the +moonlight. Then he rose again, and, for a long time, the room was empty.</p> + +<br><br> + +<p>It was empty when Mrs. Benson came in some time later to say good-night +to her son on her way to bed. She walked slowly round the table, and +pausing at the window gazed from it in idle thought, until she saw the +figure of her son advancing with rapid strides toward the house. He +looked up at the window.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," said she.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," said Benson, in a deep voice.</p> + +<p>"Where is Wilfred?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has gone," said Benson.</p> + +<p>"Gone?"</p> + +<p>"We had a few words; he was wanting money again, and I gave him a piece +of my mind. I don't think we shall see him again."</p> + +<p>"Poor Wilfred!" sighed Mrs. Benson. "He is always in trouble of some +sort. I hope that you were not too hard upon him."</p> + +<p>"No more than he deserved," said her son, sternly. "Good night."</p> + +<p> +II.</p> + +<p>The well, which had long ago fallen into disuse, was almost hidden by the +thick tangle of undergrowth which ran riot at that corner of the old +park. It was partly covered by the shrunken half of a lid, above which a +rusty windlass creaked in company with the music of the pines when the +wind blew strongly. The full light of the sun never reached it, and the +ground surrounding it was moist and green when other parts of the park +were gaping with the heat.</p> + +<p>Two people walking slowly round the park in the fragrant stillness of a +summer evening strayed in the direction of the well.</p> + +<p>"No use going through this wilderness, Olive," said Benson, pausing on +the outskirts of the pines and eyeing with some disfavour the gloom +beyond.</p> + +<p>"Best part of the park," said the girl briskly; "you know it's my +favourite spot."</p> + +<p>"I know you're very fond of sitting on the coping," said the man slowly, +"and I wish you wouldn't. One day you will lean back too far and fall +in."</p> + +<p>"And make the acquaintance of Truth," said Olive lightly. "Come along."</p> + +<p>She ran from him and was lost in the shadow of the pines, the bracken +crackling beneath her feet as she ran. Her companion followed slowly, +and emerging from the gloom saw her poised daintily on the edge of the +well with her feet hidden in the rank grass and nettles which surrounded +it. She motioned her companion to take a seat by her side, and smiled +softly as she felt a strong arm passed about her waist.</p> + +<p>"I like this place," said she, breaking a long silence, "it is so dismal +—so uncanny. Do you know I wouldn't dare to sit here alone, Jem. I +should imagine that all sorts of dreadful things were hidden behind the +bushes and trees, waiting to spring out on me. Ugh!"</p> + +<p>"You'd better let me take you in," said her companion tenderly; "the well +isn't always wholesome, especially in the hot weather.</p> + +<p>"Let's make a move."</p> + +<p>The girl gave an obstinate little shake, and settled herself more +securely on her seat.</p> + +<p>"Smoke your cigar in peace," she said quietly. "I am settled here for a +quiet talk. Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn't it?" she continued. "Another +scrape, I suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain; +'Dear Jem, help me out.'"</p> + +<p>Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding his +cigar between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what he would have done without you," said the girl, pressing +his arm affectionately. "Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we are +married, Jem, I shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. He +is very wild, but he has his good points, poor fellow."</p> + +<p>"I never saw them," said Benson, with startling bitterness. "God knows I +never saw them."</p> + +<p>"He is nobody's enemy but his own," said the girl, startled by this +outburst.</p> + +<p>"You don't know much about him," said the other, sharply. "He was not +above blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself a +benefit. A loafer, a cur, and a liar!"</p> + +<p>The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without a +word, and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and the +beams of the moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them with a +silver network. Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly with a +sharp cry she sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" she cried breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"What was what?" demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast by +the arm.</p> + +<p>She caught her breath and tried to laugh.</p> + +<p>"You're hurting me, Jem."</p> + +<p>His hold relaxed.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" he asked gently.</p> + +<p>"What was it startled you?"</p> + +<p>"I was startled," she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder. +"I suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but I +fancied that somebody behind us whispered 'Jem, help me out.'"</p> + +<p>"Fancy," repeated Benson, and his voice shook; "but these fancies are not +good for you. You—are frightened—at the dark and the gloom of these +trees. Let me take you back to the house."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not frightened," said the girl, reseating herself. "I should +never be really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I'm +surprised at myself for being so silly."</p> + +<p>The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or two +from the well, as though waiting for her to join him.</p> + +<p>"Come and sit down, sir," cried Olive, patting the brickwork with her +small, white hand, "one would think that you did not like your company."</p> + +<p>He obeyed slowly and took a seat by her side, drawing so hard at his +cigar that the light of it shone upon his fare at every breath. He +passed his arm, firm and rigid as steel, behind her, with his hand +resting on the brickwork beyond.</p> + +<p>"Are you warm enough?" he asked tenderly, as she made a little movement. +"Pretty fair," she shivered; "one oughtn't to be cold at this time of the +year, but there's a cold, damp air comes up from the well."</p> + +<p>As she spoke a faint splash sounded from the depths below, and for the +second time that evening, she sprang from the well with a little cry of +dismay.</p> + +<p>"What is it now?" he asked in a fearful voice. He stood by her side and +gazed at the well, as though half expecting to see the cause of her alarm +emerge from it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my bracelet," she cried in distress, "my poor mother's bracelet. +I've dropped it down the well."</p> + +<p>"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, dully. "Your bracelet? The diamond +one?"</p> + +<p>"The one that was my mother's," said Olive. "Oh, we can get it back +surely. We must have the water drained off."</p> + +<p>"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, stupidly.</p> + +<p>"Jem," said the girl in terrified tones, "dear Jem, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>For the man she loved was standing regarding her with horror. The moon +which touched it was not responsible for all the whiteness of the +distorted face, and she shrank back in fear to the edge of the well. He +saw her fear and by a mighty effort regained his composure and took her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Poor little girl," he murmured, "you frightened me. I was not looking +when you cried, and I thought that you were slipping from my arms, +down—down—"</p> + +<p>His voice broke, and the girl throwing herself into his arms clung to him +convulsively.</p> + +<p>"There, there," said Benson, fondly, "don't cry, don't cry."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," said Olive, half-laughing, half-crying, "we will all come +round the well with hook and line and fish for it. It will be quite a +new sport."</p> + +<p>"No, we must try some other way," said Benson. "You shall have it back."</p> + +<p>"How?" asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"You shall see," said Benson. "To-morrow morning at latest you shall +have it back. Till then promise me that you will not mention your loss +to anyone. Promise."</p> + +<p>"I promise," said Olive, wonderingly. "But why not?"</p> + +<p>"It is of great value, for one thing, and—But there—there are many +reasons. For one thing it is my duty to get it for you."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like to jump down for it?" she asked mischievously. +"Listen."</p> + +<p>She stooped for a stone and dropped it down.</p> + +<p>"Fancy being where that is now," she said, peering into the blackness; +"fancy going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at the +slimy sides, with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to the +little patch of sky above."</p> + +<p>"You had better come in," said Benson, very quietly. "You are developing +a taste for the morbid and horrible."</p> + +<p>The girl turned, and taking his arm walked slowly in the direction of the +house; Mrs. Benson, who was sitting in the porch, rose to receive them.</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have kept her out so long," she said chidingly. "Where +have you been?"</p> + +<p>"Sitting on the well," said Olive, smiling, "discussing our future."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe that place is healthy," said Mrs. Benson, emphatically. +"I really think it might be filled in, Jem."</p> + +<p>"All right," said her son, slowly. "Pity it wasn't filled in long ago."</p> + +<p>He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house with +Olive, and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deep +thought. After a time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which was +set apart for sporting requisites selected a sea fishing line and some +hooks and stole softly downstairs again. He walked swiftly across the +park in the direction of the well, turning before he entered the shadow +of the trees to look back at the lighted windows of the house. Then +having arranged his line he sat on the edge of the well and cautiously +lowered it.</p> + +<p>He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in a +startled fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering at +him from the belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line until at +length in pulling it up he heard a little metallic tinkle against the +side of the well.</p> + +<p>He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inch +by inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly, +and his eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catch +hanging to the hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in. +Then he saw that instead of the bracelet he had hooked a bunch of keys.</p> + +<p>With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, and +stood breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night. +He walked up and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he came +back to the well and resumed his task.</p> + +<p>For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In his +eagerness he forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fished +slowly and carefully. Twice the hook became entangled in something, and +was with difficulty released. It caught a third time, and all his +efforts failed' to free it. Then he dropped the line down the well, +and with head bent walked toward the house.</p> + +<p>He went first to the stables at the rear, and then retiring to his room +for some time paced restlessly up and down. Then without removing his +clothes he flung himself upon the bed and fell into a troubled sleep.</p> + +<p> +III.</p> + +<p>Long before anybody else was astir he arose and stole softly downstairs. +The sunlight was stealing in at every crevice, and flashing in long +streaks across the darkened rooms. The dining-room into which he looked +struck chill and cheerless in the dark yellow light which came through +the lowered blinds. He remembered that it had the same appearance when +his father lay dead in the house; now, as then, everything seemed ghastly +and unreal; the very chairs standing as their occupants had left them the +night before seemed to be indulging in some dark communication of ideas.</p> + +<p>Slowly and noiselessly he opened the hall door and passed into the +fragrant air beyond. The sun was shining on the drenched grass and +trees, and a slowly vanishing white mist rolled like smoke about the +grounds. For a moment he stood, breathing deeply the sweet air of the +morning, and then walked slowly in the direction of the stables.</p> + +<p>The rusty creaking of a pump-handle and a spatter of water upon the +red-tiled courtyard showed that somebody else was astir, and a few steps +farther he beheld a brawny, sandy-haired man gasping wildly under severe +self-infliction at the pump.</p> + +<p>"Everything ready, George?" he asked quietly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the man, straightening up suddenly and touching his +forehead. "Bob's just finishing the arrangements inside. It's a lovely +morning for a dip. The water in that well must be just icy."</p> + +<p>"Be as quick as you can," said Benson, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir," said George, burnishing his face harshly with a very +small towel which had been hanging over the top of the pump. "Hurry up, +Bob."</p> + +<p>In answer to his summons a man appeared at the door of the stable with a +coil of stout rope over his arm and a large metal candlestick in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Just to try the air, sir," said George, following his master's glance, +"a well gets rather foul sometimes, but if a candle can live down it, a +man can."</p> + +<p>His master nodded, and the man, hastily pulling up the neck of his shirt +and thrusting his arms into his coat, followed him as he led the way +slowly to the well.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir," said George, drawing up to his side, "but you are not +looking over and above well this morning. If you'll let me go down I'd +enjoy the bath."</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Benson, peremptorily.</p> + +<p>"You ain't fit to go down, sir," persisted his follower. "I've never +seen you look so before. Now if—"</p> + +<p>"Mind your business," said his master curtly.</p> + +<p>George became silent and the three walked with swinging strides through +the long wet grass to the well. Bob flung the rope on the ground and at +a sign from his master handed him the candlestick.</p> + +<p>"Here's the line for it, sir," said Bob, fumbling in his pockets.</p> + +<p>Benson took it from him and slowly tied it to the candlestick. Then he +placed it on the edge of the well, and striking a match, lit the candle +and began slowly to lower it.</p> + +<p>"Hold hard, sir," said George, quickly, laying his hand on his arm, "you +must tilt it or the string'll burn through."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke the string parted and the candlestick fell into the +water below.</p> + +<p>Benson swore quietly.</p> + +<p>"I'll soon get another," said George, starting up.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, the well's all right," said Benson.</p> + +<p>"It won't take a moment, sir," said the other over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Are you master here, or am I?" said Benson hoarsely.</p> + +<p>George came back slowly, a glance at his master's face stopping the +protest upon his tongue, and he stood by watching him sulkily as he sat +on the well and removed his outer garments. Both men watched him +curiously, as having completed his preparations he stood grim and silent +with his hands by his sides.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd let me go, sir," said George, plucking up courage to +address him. "You ain't fit to go, you've got a chill or something. I +shouldn't wonder it's the typhoid. They've got it in the village bad."</p> + +<p>For a moment Benson looked at him angrily, then his gaze softened. "Not +this time, George," he said, quietly. He took the looped end of the rope +and placed it under his arms, and sitting down threw one leg over the +side of the well.</p> + +<p>"How are you going about it, sir?" queried George, laying hold of the +rope and signing to Bob to do the same.</p> + +<p>"I'll call out when I reach the water," said Benson; "then pay out three +yards more quickly so that I can get to the bottom."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir," answered both.</p> + +<p>Their master threw the other leg over the coping and sat motionless. His +back was turned toward the men as he sat with head bent, looking down the +shaft. He sat for so long that George became uneasy.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Benson, slowly. "If I tug at the rope, George, pull up at +once. Lower away."</p> + +<p>The rope passed steadily through their hands until a hollow cry from the +darkness below and a faint splashing warned them that he had reached the +water. They gave him three yards more and stood with relaxed grasp and +strained ears, waiting.</p> + +<p>"He's gone under," said Bob in a low voice.</p> + +<p>The other nodded, and moistening his huge palms took a firmer grip of the +rope.</p> + +<p>Fully a minute passed, and the men began to exchange uneasy glances. +Then a sudden tremendous jerk followed by a series of feebler ones nearly +tore the rope from their grasp.</p> + +<p>"Pull!" shouted George, placing one foot on the side and hauling +desperately. "Pull! pull! He's stuck fast; he's not coming; PULL!"</p> + +<p>In response to their terrific exertions the rope came slowly in, inch by +inch, until at length a violent splashing was heard, and at the same +moment a scream of unutterable horror came echoing up the shaft.</p> + +<p>"What a weight he is!" panted Bob. "He's stuck fast or something. +Keep still, sir; for heaven's sake, keep still."</p> + +<p>For the taut rope was being jerked violently by the struggles of the +weight at the end of it. Both men with grunts and sighs hauled it in +foot by foot.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir," cried George, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>He had one foot against the well, and was pulling manfully; the burden +was nearing the top. A long pull and a strong pull, and the face of a +dead man with mud in the eyes and nostrils came peering over the edge. +Behind it was the ghastly face of his master; but this he saw too late, +for with a great cry he let go his hold of the rope and stepped back. +The suddenness overthrew his assistant, and the rope tore through his +hands. There was a frightful splash.</p> + +<p>"You fool!" stammered Bob, and ran to the well helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Run!" cried George. "Run for another line."</p> + +<p>He bent over the coping and called eagerly down as his assistant sped +back to the stables shouting wildly. His voice re-echoed down the shaft, +but all else was silence.</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + + +<a name="c5"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +CUPBOARD LOVE +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>In the comfortable living-room at Negget's farm, half parlour and half +kitchen, three people sat at tea in the waning light of a November +afternoon. Conversation, which had been brisk, had languished somewhat, +owing to Mrs. Negget glancing at frequent intervals toward the door, +behind which she was convinced the servant was listening, and checking +the finest periods and the most startling suggestions with a warning +<i>'ssh!</i></p> + +<p>"Go on, uncle," she said, after one of these interruptions.</p> + +<p>"I forget where I was," said Mr. Martin Bodfish, shortly.</p> + +<p>"Under our bed," Mr. Negget reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, watching," said Mrs. Negget, eagerly.</p> + +<p>It was an odd place for an ex-policeman, especially as a small legacy +added to his pension had considerably improved his social position, but +Mr. Bodfish had himself suggested it in the professional hope that the +person who had taken Mrs. Negget's gold brooch might try for further +loot. He had, indeed, suggested baiting the dressing-table with the +farmer's watch, an idea which Mr. Negget had promptly vetoed.</p> + +<p>"I can't help thinking that Mrs. Pottle knows something about it," said +Mrs. Negget, with an indignant glance at her husband.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Pottle," said the farmer, rising slowly and taking a seat on the +oak settle built in the fireplace, "has been away from the village for +near a fortnit."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say she took it," snapped his wife. "I said I believe she +knows something about it, and so I do. She's a horrid woman. Look at +the way she encouraged her girl Looey to run after that young traveller +from Smithson's. The whole fact of the matter is, it isn't your brooch, +so you don't care."</p> + +<p>"I said—" began Mr. Negget.</p> + +<p>"I know what you said," retorted his wife, sharply, "and I wish you'd be +quiet and not interrupt uncle. Here's my uncle been in the police +twenty-five years, and you won't let him put a word in edgeways.'</p> + +<p>"My way o' looking at it," said the ex-policeman, slowly, "is different +to that o' the law; my idea is, an' always has been, that everybody is +guilty until they've proved their innocence."</p> + +<p>"It's a wonderful thing to me," said Mr. Negget in a low voice to his +pipe, "as they should come to a house with a retired policeman living in +it. Looks to me like somebody that ain't got much respect for the +police."</p> + +<p>The ex-policeman got up from the table, and taking a seat on the settle +opposite the speaker, slowly filled a long clay and took a spill from the +fireplace. His pipe lit, he turned to his niece, and slowly bade her go +over the account of her loss once more.</p> + +<p>"I missed it this morning," said Mrs. Negget, rapidly, "at ten minutes +past twelve o'clock by the clock, and half-past five by my watch which +wants looking to. I'd just put the batch of bread into the oven, and +gone upstairs and opened the box that stands on my drawers to get a +lozenge, and I missed the brooch."</p> + +<p>"Do you keep it in that box?" asked the ex-policeman, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Always," replied his niece. "I at once came down stairs and told Emma +that the brooch had been stolen. I said that I named no names, and +didn't wish to think bad of anybody, and that if I found the brooch back +in the box when I went up stairs again, I should forgive whoever took +it."</p> + +<p>"And what did Emma say?" inquired Mr. Bodfish.</p> + +<p>"Emma said a lot o' things," replied Mrs. Negget, angrily. "I'm sure by +the lot she had to say you'd ha' thought she was the missis and me the +servant. I gave her a month's notice at once, and she went straight up +stairs and sat on her box and cried."</p> + +<p>"Sat on her box?" repeated the ex-constable, impressively. "Oh!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I thought," said his niece, "but it wasn't, because I got +her off at last and searched it through and through. I never saw +anything like her clothes in all my life. There was hardly a button or a +tape on; and as for her stockings—"</p> + +<p>"She don't get much time," said Mr. Negget, slowly.</p> + +<p>"That's right; I thought you'd speak up for her," cried his wife, +shrilly.</p> + +<p>"Look here—" began Mr. Negget, laying his pipe on the seat by his side +and rising slowly.</p> + +<p>"Keep to the case in hand," said the ex-constable, waving him back to his +seat again. "Now, Lizzie."</p> + +<p>"I searched her box through and through," said his niece, "but it wasn't +there; then I came down again and had a rare good cry all to myself."</p> + +<p>"That's the best way for you to have it," remarked Mr. Negget, feelingly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Negget's uncle instinctively motioned his niece to silence, and +holding his chin in his hand, scowled frightfully in the intensity of +thought.</p> + +<p>"See a cloo?" inquired Mr. Negget, affably.</p> + +<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, George," said his wife, angrily; +"speaking to uncle when he's looking like that."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish said nothing; it is doubtful whether he even heard these +remarks; but he drew a huge notebook from his pocket, and after vainly +trying to point his pencil by suction, took a knife from the table and +hastily sharpened it.</p> + +<p>"Was the brooch there last night?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"It were," said Mr. Negget, promptly. "Lizzie made me get up just as the +owd clock were striking twelve to get her a lozenge."</p> + +<p>"It seems pretty certain that the brooch went since then," mused Mr. +Bodfish.</p> + +<p>"It would seem like it to a plain man," said Mr. Negget, guardedly.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see the box," said Mr. Bodfish.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Negget went up and fetched it and stood eyeing him eagerly as he +raised the lid and inspected the contents. It contained only a few +lozenges and some bone studs. Mr. Negget helped himself to a lozenge, +and going back to his seat, breathed peppermint.</p> + +<p>"Properly speaking, that ought not to have been touched," said the +ex-constable, regarding him with some severity.</p> + +<p>"Eh!" said the startled farmer, putting his finger to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said the other, shaking his head. "It's too late now."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't care a bit," said Mrs. Negget, somewhat sadly. "He used to +keep buttons in that box with the lozenges until one night he gave me one +by mistake. Yes, you may laugh—I'm glad you can laugh."</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget, feeling that his mirth was certainly ill-timed, shook for +some time in a noble effort to control himself, and despairing at length, +went into the back place to recover. Sounds of blows indicative of Emma +slapping him on the back did not add to Mrs. Negget's serenity.</p> + +<p>"The point is," said the ex-constable, "could anybody have come into your +room while you was asleep and taken it?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Negget, decisively. "I'm a very poor sleeper, and I'd +have woke at once, but if a flock of elephants was to come in the room +they wouldn't wake George. He'd sleep through anything."</p> + +<p>"Except her feeling under my piller for her handkerchief," corroborated +Mr. Negget, returning to the sitting-room.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish waved them to silence, and again gave way to deep thought. +Three times he took up his pencil, and laying it down again, sat and +drummed on the table with his fingers. Then he arose, and with bent head +walked slowly round and round the room until he stumbled over a stool.</p> + +<p>"Nobody came to the house this morning, I suppose?" he said at length, +resuming his seat.</p> + +<p>"Only Mrs. Driver," said his niece.</p> + +<p>"What time did she come?" inquired Mr. Bodfish.</p> + +<p>"Here! look here!" interposed Mr. Negget. "I've known Mrs. Driver +thirty year a'most."</p> + +<p>"What time did she come?" repeated the ex-constable, pitilessly.</p> + +<p>His niece shook her head. "It might have been eleven, and again it might +have been earlier," she replied. "I was out when she came."</p> + +<p>"Out!" almost shouted the other.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Negget nodded.</p> + +<p>"She was sitting in here when I came back."</p> + +<p>Her uncle looked up and glanced at the door behind which a small +staircase led to the room above.</p> + +<p>"What was to prevent Mrs. Driver going up there while you were away?" he +demanded.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like to think that of Mrs. Driver," said his niece, shaking +her head; "but then in these days one never knows what might happen. +Never. I've given up thinking about it. However, when I came back, Mrs. +Driver was here, sitting in that very chair you are sitting in now."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish pursed up his lips and made another note. Then he took a +spill from the fireplace, and lighting a candle, went slowly and +carefully up the stairs. He found nothing on them but two caked rims of +mud, and being too busy to notice Mr. Negget's frantic signalling, called +his niece's attention to them.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of that?" he demanded, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's been up there," said his niece. "It isn't Emma, because she +hasn't been outside the house all day; and it can't be George, because he +promised me faithful he'd never go up there in his dirty boots."</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget coughed, and approaching the stairs, gazed with the eye of a +stranger at the relics as Mr. Bodfish hotly rebuked a suggestion of his +niece's to sweep them up.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me," said the conscience-stricken Mr. Negget, feebly, "as +they're rather large for a woman."</p> + +<p>"Mud cakes," said Mr. Bodfish, with his most professional manner; "a +small boot would pick up a lot this weather."</p> + +<p>"So it would," said Mr. Negget, and with brazen effrontery not only met +his wife's eye without quailing, but actually glanced down at her boots.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish came back to his chair and ruminated. Then he looked up and +spoke.</p> + +<p>"It was missed this morning at ten minutes past twelve," he said, slowly; +"it was there last night. At eleven o'clock you came in and found Mrs. +Driver sitting in that chair."</p> + +<p>"No, the one you're in," interrupted his niece.</p> + +<p>"It don't signify," said her uncle. "Nobody else has been near the +place, and Emma's box has been searched.</p> + +<p>"Thoroughly searched," testified Mrs. Negget.</p> + +<p>"Now the point is, what did Mrs. Driver come for this morning?" resumed +the ex-constable. "Did she come—"</p> + +<p>He broke off and eyed with dignified surprise a fine piece of wireless +telegraphy between husband and wife. It appeared that Mr. Negget sent +off a humorous message with his left eye, the right being for some reason +closed, to which Mrs. Negget replied with a series of frowns and staccato +shakes of the head, which her husband found easily translatable. Under +the austere stare of Mr. Bodfish their faces at once regained their +wonted calm, and the ex-constable in a somewhat offended manner resumed +his inquiries.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Driver has been here a good bit lately," he remarked, slowly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget's eyes watered, and his mouth worked piteously.</p> + +<p>"If you can't behave yourself, George—began began his wife, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" demanded Mr. Bodfish. "I'm not aware that I've +said anything to be laughed at."</p> + +<p>"No more you have, uncle," retorted his niece; "only George is such a +stupid. He's got an idea in his silly head that Mrs. Driver—But it's +all nonsense, of course."</p> + +<p>"I've merely got a bit of an idea that it's a wedding-ring, not a brooch, +Mrs. Driver is after," said the farmer to the perplexed constable.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish looked from one to the other. "But you always keep yours on, +Lizzie, don't you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," replied his niece, hurriedly; "but George has always +got such strange ideas. Don't take no notice of him."</p> + +<p>Her uncle sat back in his chair, his face still wrinkled perplexedly; +then the wrinkles vanished suddenly, chased away by a huge glow, and he +rose wrathfully and towered over the match-making Mr. Negget. "How dare +you?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget made no reply, but in a cowardly fashion jerked his thumb +toward his wife.</p> + +<p>"Oh! George! How can you say so?" said the latter.</p> + +<p>"I should never ha' thought of it by myself," said the farmer; "but I +think they'd make a very nice couple, and I'm sure Mrs. Driver thinks +so."</p> + +<p>The ex-constable sat down in wrathful confusion, and taking up his +notebook again, watched over the top of it the silent charges and +countercharges of his niece and her husband.</p> + +<p>"If I put my finger on the culprit," he asked at length, turning to his +niece, "what do you wish done to her?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Negget regarded him with an expression which contained all the +Christian virtues rolled into one.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said, softly. "I only want my brooch back."</p> + +<p>The ex-constable shook his head at this leniency.</p> + +<p>"Well, do as you please," he said, slowly. "In the first place, I want +you to ask Mrs. Driver here to tea to-morrow—oh, I don't mind Negget's +ridiculous ideas—pity he hasn't got something better to think of; if +she's guilty, I'll soon find it out. I'll play with her like a cat with +a mouse. I'll make her convict herself."</p> + +<p>"Look here!" said Mr. Negget, with sudden vigour. "I won't have it. +I won't have no woman asked here to tea to be got at like that. There's +only my friends comes here to tea, and if any friend stole anything o' +mine, I'd be one o' the first to hush it up."</p> + +<p>"If they were all like you, George," said his wife, angrily, "where would +the law be?"</p> + +<p>"Or the police?" demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him.</p> + +<p>"I won't have it!" repeated the farmer, loudly. "I'm the law here, and +I'm the police here. That little tiny bit o' dirt was off my boots, I +dare say. I don't care if it was."</p> + +<p>"Very good," said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; "if he +likes to look at it that way, there's nothing more to be said. I only +wanted to get your brooch back for you, that's all; but if he's against +it—"</p> + +<p>"I'm against your asking Mrs. Driver here to my house to be got at," said +the farmer.</p> + +<p>"O' course if you can find out who took the brooch, and get it back again +anyway, that's another matter."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish leaned over the table toward his niece.</p> + +<p>"If I get an opportunity, I'll search her cottage," he said, in a low +voice. "Strictly speaking, it ain't quite a legal thing to do, o course, +but many o' the finest pieces of detective work have been done by +breaking the law. If she's a kleptomaniac, it's very likely lying about +somewhere in the house."</p> + +<p>He eyed Mr. Negget closely, as though half expecting another outburst, +but none being forthcoming, sat back in his chair again and smoked in +silence, while Mrs. Negget, with a carpet-brush which almost spoke, swept +the pieces of dried mud from the stairs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget was the last to go to bed that night, and finishing his pipe +over the dying fire, sat for some time in deep thought. He had from the +first raised objections to the presence of Mr. Bodfish at the farm, but +family affection, coupled with an idea of testamentary benefits, had so +wrought with his wife that he had allowed her to have her own way. Now +he half fancied that he saw a chance of getting rid of him. If he could +only enable the widow to catch him searching her house, it was highly +probable that the ex-constable would find the village somewhat too hot to +hold him. He gave his right leg a congratulatory slap as he thought of +it, and knocking the ashes from his pipe, went slowly up to bed.</p> + +<p>He was so amiable next morning that Mr. Bodfish, who was trying to +explain to Mrs. Negget the difference between theft and kleptomania, +spoke before him freely. The ex-constable defined kleptomania as a sort +of amiable weakness found chiefly among the upper circles, and cited the +case of a lady of title whose love of diamonds, combined with great +hospitality, was a source of much embarrassment to her guests.</p> + +<p>For the whole of that day Mr. Bodfish hung about in the neighbourhood of +the widow's cottage, but in vain, and it would be hard to say whether he +or Mr. Negget, who had been discreetly shadowing him, felt the +disappointment most. On the day following, however, the ex-constable +from a distant hedge saw a friend of the widow's enter the cottage, and +a little later both ladies emerged and walked up the road.</p> + +<p>He watched them turn the corner, and then, with a cautious glance round, +which failed, however, to discover Mr. Negget, the ex-constable strolled +casually in the direction of the cottage, and approaching it from the +rear, turned the handle of the door and slipped in.</p> + +<p>He searched the parlour hastily, and then, after a glance from the +window, ventured up stairs. And he was in the thick of his self-imposed +task when his graceless nephew by marriage, who had met Mrs. Driver and +referred pathetically to a raging thirst which he had hoped to have +quenched with some of her home-brewed, brought the ladies hastily back +again.</p> + +<p>"I'll go round the back way," said the wily Negget as they approached the +cottage. "I just want to have a look at that pig of yours."</p> + +<p>He reached the back door at the same time as Mr. Bodfish, and placing his +legs apart, held it firmly against the frantic efforts of the exconstable. +The struggle ceased suddenly, and the door opened easily just as Mrs. +Driver and her friend appeared in the front room, and the farmer, with a +keen glance at the door of the larder which had just closed, took a chair +while his hostess drew a glass of beer from the barrel in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget drank gratefully and praised the brew. From beer the +conversation turned naturally to the police, and from the police to the +listening Mr. Bodfish, who was economizing space by sitting on the bread-pan, and trembling with agitation.</p> + +<p>"He's a lonely man," said Negget, shaking his head and glancing from the +corner of his eye at the door of the larder. In his wildest dreams he +had not imagined so choice a position, and he resolved to give full play +to an idea which suddenly occurred to him.</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Mrs. Driver, carelessly, conscious that her friend was +watching her.</p> + +<p>"And the heart of a little child," said Negget; "you wouldn't believe how +simple he is."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clowes said that it did him credit, but, speaking for herself, she +hadn't noticed it.</p> + +<p>"He was talking about you night before last," said Negget, turning to his +hostess; "not that that's anything fresh. He always is talking about you +nowadays."</p> + +<p>The widow coughed confusedly and told him not to be foolish.</p> + +<p>"Ask my wife," said the farmer, impressively; "they were talking about +you for hours. He's a very shy man is my wife's uncle, but you should +see his face change when your name's mentioned."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, Mr. Bodfish's face was at that very moment taking on +a deeper shade of crimson.</p> + +<p>"Everything you do seems to interest him," continued the farmer, +disregarding Mrs. Driver's manifest distress; "he was asking Lizzie about +your calling on Monday; how long you stayed, and where you sat; and after +she'd told him, I'm blest if he didn't go and sit in the same chair!"</p> + +<p>This romantic setting to a perfectly casual action on the part of Mr. +Bodfish affected the widow visibly, but its effect on the ex-constable +nearly upset the bread-pan.</p> + +<p>"But here," continued Mr. Negget, with another glance at the larder, "he +might go on like that for years. He's a wunnerful shy man—big, and +gentle, and shy. He wanted Lizzie to ask you to tea yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Negget," said the blushing widow. "Do be quiet."</p> + +<p>"Fact," replied the farmer; "solemn fact, I assure you. And he asked her +whether you were fond of jewellery."</p> + +<p>"I met him twice in the road near here yesterday," said Mrs. Clowes, +suddenly. "Perhaps he was waiting for you to come out."</p> + +<p>"I dare say," replied the farmer. "I shouldn't wonder but what he's +hanging about somewhere near now, unable to tear himself away."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish wrung his hands, and his thoughts reverted instinctively to +instances in his memory in which charges of murder had been altered by +the direction of a sensible judge to manslaughter. He held his breath +for the next words.</p> + +<p>Mr. Negget drank a little more ale and looked at Mrs. Driver.</p> + + + +<p>"I wonder whether you've got a morsel of bread and cheese?" he said, +slowly. "I've come over that hungry—"</p> + +<a name="003"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="003.jpg (79K)" src="images/003.jpg" height="727" width="505"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>The widow and Mr. Bodfish rose simultaneously. It required not the brain +of a trained detective to know that the cheese was in the larder. The +unconscious Mrs. Driver opened the door, and then with a wild scream fell +back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish into the arms of Mrs. +Clowes. The glass of Mr. Negget smashed on the floor, and the farmer +himself, with every appearance of astonishment, stared at the apparition +open-mouthed.</p> + +<p>"Mr.—Bodfish!" he said at length, slowly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodfish, incapable of speech, glared at him ferociously.</p> + +<p>"Leave him alone," said Mrs. Clowes, who was ministering to her friend. +"Can't you see the man's upset at frightening her? She's coming round, +Mr. Bodfish; don't be alarmed."</p> + +<p>"Very good," said the farmer, who found his injured relative's gaze +somewhat trying. "I'll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver why +he was hidden in her larder. It don't seem a proper thing to me."</p> + +<p>"Why, you silly man," said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at the +door, "that don't want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we're giving +you your chance. Mind you make the most of it, and don't be too shy."</p> + +<p>She walked excitedly up the road with the farmer, and bidding him +good-bye at the corner, went off hastily to spread the news. Mr. Negget +walked home soberly, and hardly staying long enough to listen to his +wife's account of the finding of the brooch between the chest of drawers +and the wall, went off to spend the evening with a friend, and ended by +making a night of it.</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + + +<a name="c6"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +IN THE LIBRARY +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>The fire had burnt low in the library, for the night was wet and warm. +It was now little more than a grey shell, and looked desolate. Trayton +Burleigh, still hot, rose from his armchair, and turning out one of the +gas-jets, took a cigar from a box on a side-table and resumed his seat +again.</p> + +<p>The apartment, which was on the third floor at the back of the house, was +a combination of library, study, and smoke-room, and was the daily +despair of the old housekeeper who, with the assistance of one servant, +managed the house. It was a bachelor establishment, and had been left to +Trayton Burleigh and James Fletcher by a distant connection of both men +some ten years before.</p> + +<p>Trayton Burleigh sat back in his chair watching the smoke of his cigar +through half-closed eyes. Occasionally he opened them a little wider and +glanced round the comfortable, well-furnished room, or stared with a cold +gleam of hatred at Fletcher as he sat sucking stolidly at his brier pipe. +It was a comfortable room and a valuable house, half of which belonged to +Trayton Burleigh; and yet he was to leave it in the morning and become a +rogue and a wanderer over the face of the earth. James Fletcher had said +so. James Fletcher, with the pipe still between his teeth and speaking +from one corner of his mouth only, had pronounced his sentence.</p> + +<p>"It hasn't occurred to you, I suppose," said Burleigh, speaking suddenly, +"that I might refuse your terms."</p> + +<p>"No," said Fletcher, simply.</p> + +<p>Burleigh took a great mouthful of smoke and let it roll slowly out.</p> + +<p>"I am to go out and leave you in possession?" he continued. "You will +stay here sole proprietor of the house; you will stay at the office sole +owner and representative of the firm? You are a good hand at a deal, +James Fletcher."</p> + +<p>"I am an honest man," said Fletcher, "and to raise sufficient money to +make your defalcations good will not by any means leave me the gainer, as +you very well know."</p> + +<p>"There is no necessity to borrow," began Burleigh, eagerly. "We can pay +the interest easily, and in course of time make the principal good +without a soul being the wiser."</p> + +<p>"That you suggested before," said Fletcher, "and my answer is the same. +I will be no man's confederate in dishonesty; I will raise every penny at +all costs, and save the name of the firm—and yours with it—but I will +never have you darken the office again, or sit in this house after +to-night."</p> + +<p>"You won't," cried Burleigh, starting up in a frenzy of rage.</p> + +<p>"I won't," said Fletcher. "You can choose the alternative: disgrace and +penal servitude. Don't stand over me; you won't frighten me, I can +assure you. Sit down."</p> + +<p>"You have arranged so many things in your kindness," said Burleigh, +slowly, resuming his seat again, "have you arranged how I am to live?"</p> + +<p>"You have two strong hands, and health," replied Fletcher. "I will give +you the two hundred pounds I mentioned, and after that you must look out +for yourself. You can take it now."</p> + +<p>He took a leather case from his breast pocket, and drew out a roll of +notes. Burleigh, watching him calmly, stretched out his hand and took +them from the table. Then he gave way to a sudden access of rage, and +crumpling them in his hand, threw them into a corner of the room. +Fletcher smoked on.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Marl is out?" said Burleigh, suddenly.</p> + +<p>Fletcher nodded.</p> + +<p>"She will be away the night," he said, slowly; "and Jane too; they have +gone together somewhere, but they will be back at half-past eight in the +morning."</p> + +<p>"You are going to let me have one more breakfast in the old place, then," +said Burleigh. "Half-past eight, half-past—-"</p> + +<p>He rose from his chair again. This time Fletcher took his pipe from his +mouth and watched him closely. Burleigh stooped, and picking up the +notes, placed them in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"If I am to be turned adrift, it shall not be to leave you here," he +said, in a thick voice.</p> + +<p>He crossed over and shut the door; as he turned back Fletcher rose from +his chair and stood confronting him. Burleigh put his hand to the wall, +and drawing a small Japanese sword from its sheath of carved ivory, +stepped slowly toward him.</p> + +<p>"I give you one chance, Fletcher," he said, grimly. "You are a man of +your word. Hush this up and let things be as they were before, and you +are safe."</p> + +<p>"Put that down," said Fletcher, sharply.</p> + +<p>"By —, I mean what I say!" cried the other.</p> + +<p>"I mean what I said!" answered Fletcher.</p> + +<p>He looked round at the last moment for a weapon, then he turned suddenly +at a sharp sudden pain, and saw Burleigh's clenched fist nearly touching +his breast-bone. The hand came away from his breast again, and something +with it. It went a long way off. Trayton Burleigh suddenly went to a +great distance and the room darkened. It got quite dark, and Fletcher, +with an attempt to raise his hands, let them fall to his side instead, +and fell in a heap to the floor.</p> + +<p>He was so still that Burleigh could hardly realize that it was all over, +and stood stupidly waiting for him to rise again. Then he took out his +handkerchief as though to wipe the sword, and thinking better of it, put +it back into his pocket again, and threw the weapon on to the floor.</p> + + +<a name="004"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="004.jpg (81K)" src="images/004.jpg" height="772" width="503"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>The body of Fletcher lay where it had fallen, the white face turned up to +the gas. In life he had been a commonplace-looking man, not to say +vulgar; now Burleigh, with a feeling of nausea, drew back toward the +door, until the body was hidden by the table, and relieved from the +sight, he could think more clearly. He looked down carefully and +examined his clothes and his boots. Then he crossed the room again, and +with his face averted, turned out the gas. Something seemed to stir in +the darkness, and with a faint cry he blundered toward the door before he +had realized that it was the clock. It struck twelve.</p> + + + +<p>He stood at the head of the stairs trying to recover himself; trying to +think. The gas on the landing below, the stairs and the furniture, all +looked so prosaic and familiar that he could not realize what had +occurred. He walked slowly down and turned the light out. The darkness +of the upper part of the house was now almost appalling, and in a sudden +panic he ran down stairs into the lighted hall, and snatching a hat from +the stand, went to the door and walked down to the gate.</p> + +<p>Except for one window the neighbouring houses were in darkness, and the +lamps shone tip a silent street. There was a little rain in the air, and +the muddy road was full of pebbles. He stood at the gate trying to screw +up his courage to enter the house again. Then he noticed a figure coming +slowly up the road and keeping close to the palings.</p> + +<p>The full realization of what he had done broke in upon him when he found +himself turning to fly from the approach of the constable. The wet cape +glistening in the lamplight, the slow, heavy step, made him tremble. +Suppose the thing upstairs was not quite dead and should cry out? +Suppose the constable should think it strange for him to be standing +there and follow him in? He assumed a careless attitude, which did not +feel careless, and as the man passed bade him good-night, and made a +remark as to the weather.</p> + +<p>Ere the sound of the other's footsteps had gone quite out of hearing, +he turned and entered the house again before the sense of companionship +should have quite departed. The first flight of stairs was lighted by +the gas in the hall, and he went up slowly. Then he struck a match and +went up steadily, past the library door, and with firm fingers turned on +the gas in his bedroom and lit it. He opened the window a little way, +and sitting down on his bed, tried to think.</p> + +<p>He had got eight hours. Eight hours and two hundred pounds in small +notes. He opened his safe and took out all the loose cash it contained, +and walking about the room, gathered up and placed in his pockets such +articles of jewellery as he possessed.</p> + +<p>The first horror had now to some extent passed, and was succeeded by the +fear of death.</p> + +<p>With this fear on him he sat down again and tried to think out the first +moves in that game of skill of which his life was the stake. He had +often read of people of hasty temper, evading the police for a time, and +eventually falling into their hands for lack of the most elementary +common sense. He had heard it said that they always made some stupid +blunder, left behind them some damning clue. He took his revolver from a +drawer and saw that it was loaded. If the worst came to the worst, he +would die quickly.</p> + +<p>Eight hours' start; two hundred odd pounds. He would take lodgings at +first in some populous district, and let the hair on his face grow. When +the hue-and-cry had ceased, he would go abroad and start life again. He +would go out of a night and post letters to himself, or better still, +postcards, which his landlady would read. Postcards from cheery friends, +from a sister, from a brother. During the day he would stay in and +write, as became a man who described himself as a journalist.</p> + +<p>Or suppose he went to the sea? Who would look for him in flannels, +bathing and boating with ordinary happy mortals? He sat and pondered. +One might mean life, and the other death. Which?</p> + +<p>His face burned as he thought of the responsibility of the choice. So +many people went to the sea at that time of year that he would surely +pass unnoticed. But at the sea one might meet acquaintances. He got up +and nervously paced the room again. It was not so simple, now that it +meant so much, as he had thought.</p> + +<p>The sharp little clock on the mantel-piece rang out "one," followed +immediately by the deeper note of that in the library. He thought of the +clock, it seemed the only live thing in that room, and shuddered. He +wondered whether the thing lying by the far side of the table heard it. +He wondered—-</p> + +<p>He started and held his breath with fear. Somewhere down stairs a board +creaked loudly, then another. He went to the door, and opening it a +little way, but without looking out, listened. The house was so still +that he could hear the ticking of the old clock in the kitchen below. He +opened the door a little wider and peeped out. As he did so there was a +sudden sharp outcry on the stairs, and he drew back into the room and +stood trembling before he had quite realized that the noise had been made +by the cat. The cry was unmistakable; but what had disturbed it?</p> + +<p>There was silence again, and he drew near the door once more. He became +certain that something was moving stealthily on the stairs. He heard the +boards creak again, and once the rails of the balustrade rattled. The +silence and suspense were frightful. Suppose that the something which +had been Fletcher waited for him in the darkness outside?</p> + +<p>He fought his fears down, and opening the door, determined to see what +was beyond. The light from his room streamed out on to the landing, and +he peered about fearfully. Was it fancy, or did the door of Fletcher's +room opposite close as he looked? Was it fancy, or did the handle of the +door really turn?</p> + +<p>In perfect silence, and watching the door as he moved, to see that +nothing came out and followed him, he proceeded slowly down the dark +stairs. Then his jaw fell, and he turned sick and faint again. The +library door, which he distinctly remembered closing, and which, +moreover, he had seen was closed when he went up stairs to his room, now +stood open some four or five inches. He fancied that there was a +rustling inside, but his brain refused to be certain. Then plainly and +unmistakably he heard a chair pushed against the wall.</p> + +<p>He crept to the door, hoping to pass it before the thing inside became +aware of his presence. Something crept stealthily about the room. With +a sudden impulse he caught the handle of the door, and, closing it +violently, turned the key in the lock, and ran madly down the stairs.</p> + +<p>A fearful cry sounded from the room, and a heavy hand beat upon the +panels of the door. The house rang with the blows, but above them +sounded the loud hoarse cries of human fear. Burleigh, half-way down to +the hall, stopped with his hand on the balustrade and listened. The +beating ceased, and a man's voice cried out loudly for God's sake to let +him out.</p> + +<p>At once Burleigh saw what had happened and what it might mean for him. +He had left the hall door open after his visit to the front, and some +wandering bird of the night had entered the house. No need for him to go +now. No need to hide either from the hangman's rope or the felon's cell. +The fool above had saved him. He turned and ran up stairs again just as +the prisoner in his furious efforts to escape wrenched the handle from +the door.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" he cried, loudly.</p> + +<p>"Let me out!" cried a frantic voice. "For God's sake, open the door! +There's something here."</p> + +<p>"Stay where you are!" shouted Burleigh, sternly. "Stay where you are! +If you come out, I'll shoot you like a dog!"</p> + +<p>The only response was a smashing blow on the lock of the door. Burleigh +raised his pistol, and aiming at the height of a man's chest, fired +through the panel.</p> + +<p>The report and the crashing of the wood made one noise, succeeded by an +unearthly stillness, then the noise of a window hastily opened. Burleigh +fled hastily down the stairs, and flinging wide the hall door, shouted +loudly for assistance.</p> + +<p>It happened that a sergeant and the constable on the beat had just met in +the road. They came toward the house at a run. Burleigh, with +incoherent explanations, ran up stairs before them, and halted outside +the library door. The prisoner was still inside, still trying to +demolish the lock of the sturdy oaken door. Burleigh tried to turn the +key, but the lock was too damaged to admit of its moving. The sergeant +drew back, and, shoulder foremost, hurled himself at the door and burst +it open.</p> + +<p>He stumbled into the room, followed by the constable, and two shafts of +light from the lanterns at their belts danced round the room. A man +lurking behind the door made a dash for it, and the next instant the +three men were locked together.</p> + +<p>Burleigh, standing in the doorway, looked on coldly, reserving himself +for the scene which was to follow. Except for the stumbling of the men +and the sharp catch of the prisoner's breath, there was no noise. A +helmet fell off and bounced and rolled along the floor. The men fell; +there was a sobbing snarl and a sharp click. A tall figure rose from the +floor; the other, on his knees, still held the man down. The standing +figure felt in his pocket, and, striking a match, lit the gas.</p> + +<p>The light fell on the flushed face and fair beard of the sergeant. He +was bare-headed, and his hair dishevelled. Burleigh entered the room and +gazed eagerly at the half-insensible man on the floor-a short, thick-set +fellow with a white, dirty face and a black moustache. His lip was cut +and bled down his neck. Burleigh glanced furtively at the table. The +cloth had come off in the struggle, and was now in the place where he had +left Fletcher.</p> + +<p>"Hot work, sir," said the sergeant, with a smile. "It's fortunate we +were handy."</p> + +<p>The prisoner raised a heavy head and looked up with unmistakable terror +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir," he said, trembling, as the constable increased the +pressure of his knee. "I 'ain't been in the house ten minutes +altogether. By —, I've not."</p> + +<p>The sergeant regarded him curiously.</p> + +<p>"It don't signify," he said, slowly; "ten minutes or ten seconds won't +make any difference."</p> + +<p>The man shook and began to whimper.</p> + +<p>"It was 'ere when I come," he said, eagerly; "take that down, sir. I've +only just come, and it was 'ere when I come. I tried to get away then, +but I was locked in."</p> + +<p>"What was?" demanded the sergeant.</p> + +<p>"That," he said, desperately.</p> + +<p>The sergeant, following the direction of the terror-stricken black eyes, +stooped by the table. Then, with a sharp exclamation, he dragged away +the cloth. Burleigh, with a sharp cry of horror, reeled back against the +wall.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir," said the sergeant, catching him; "all right. Turn your +head away."</p> + +<p>He pushed him into a chair, and crossing the room, poured out a glass of +whiskey and brought it to him. The glass rattled against his teeth, but +he drank it greedily, and then groaned faintly. The sergeant waited +patiently. There was no hurry.</p> + +<p>"Who is it, sir?" he asked at length.</p> + +<p>"My friend—Fletcher," said Burleigh, with an effort. "We lived +together." He turned to the prisoner.</p> + +<p>"You damned villain!"</p> + +<p>"He was dead when I come in the room, gentlemen," said the prisoner, +strenuously. "He was on the floor dead, and when I see 'im, I tried to +get out. S' 'elp me he was. You heard me call out, sir. I shouldn't +ha' called out if I'd killed him."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the sergeant, gruffly; "you'd better hold your tongue, +you know."</p> + +<p>"You keep quiet," urged the constable.</p> + +<p>The sergeant knelt down and raised the dead man's head.</p> + +<p>"I 'ad nothing to do with it," repeated the man on the floor. "I 'ad +nothing to do with it. I never thought of such a thing. I've only been +in the place ten minutes; put that down, sir."</p> + +<p>The sergeant groped with his left hand, and picking up the Japanese +sword, held it at him.</p> + +<p>"I've never seen it before," said the prisoner, struggling.</p> + +<p>"It used to hang on the wall," said Burleigh. "He must have snatched it +down. It was on the wall when I left Fletcher a little while ago."</p> + +<p>"How long?" inquired the sergeant.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps an hour, perhaps half an hour," was the reply. "I went to my +bedroom."</p> + +<p>The man on the floor twisted his head and regarded him narrowly.</p> + +<p>"You done it!" he cried, fiercely. "You done it, and you want me to +swing for it."</p> + +<p>"That 'll do," said the indignant constable.</p> + +<p>The sergeant let his burden gently to the floor again.</p> + +<p>"You hold your tongue, you devil!" he said, menacingly.</p> + +<p>He crossed to the table and poured a little spirit into a glass and took +it in his hand. Then he put it down again and crossed to Burleigh.</p> + +<p>"Feeling better, sir?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The other nodded faintly.</p> + +<p>"You won't want this thing any more," said the sergeant.</p> + +<p>He pointed to the pistol which the other still held, and taking it from +him gently, put it into his pocket.</p> + +<p>"You've hurt your wrist, sir," he said, anxiously.</p> + +<p>Burleigh raised one hand sharply, and then the other.</p> + +<p>"This one, I think," said the sergeant. "I saw it just now."</p> + +<p>He took the other's wrists in his hand, and suddenly holding them in the +grip of a vice, whipped out something from his pocket—something hard and +cold, which snapped suddenly on Burleigh's wrists, and held them fast.</p> + +<p>"That's right," said the sergeant; "keep quiet."</p> + +<p>The constable turned round in amaze; Burleigh sprang toward him +furiously.</p> + +<p>"Take these things off!" he choked. "Have you gone mad? Take them +off!"</p> + +<p>"All in good time," said the sergeant.</p> + +<p>"Take them off!" cried Burleigh again.</p> + +<p>For answer the sergeant took him in a powerful grip, and staring steadily +at his white face and gleaming eyes, forced him to the other end of the +room and pushed him into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Collins," he said, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Sir?" said the astonished subordinate.</p> + +<p>"Run to the doctor at the corner hard as you can run!" said the other. +"This man is not dead!"</p> + +<p>As the man left the room the sergeant took up the glass of spirits he had +poured out, and kneeling down by Fletcher again, raised his head and +tried to pour a little down his throat. Burleigh, sitting in his corner, +watched like one in a trance. He saw the constable return with the +breathless surgeon, saw the three men bending over Fletcher, and then saw +the eyes of the dying man open and the lips of the dying man move. He +was conscious that the sergeant made some notes in a pocket-book, and +that all three men eyed him closely. The sergeant stepped toward him and +placed his hand on his shoulder, and obedient to the touch, he arose and +went with him out into the night.</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + + +<a name="c7"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +CAPTAIN ROGERS +</h2> +</center> +<br> + + +<p>A man came slowly over the old stone bridge, and averting his gaze from +the dark river with its silent craft, looked with some satisfaction +toward the feeble lights of the small town on the other side. He walked +with the painful, forced step of one who has already trudged far. His +worsted hose, where they were not darned, were in holes, and his coat and +knee-breeches were rusty with much wear, but he straightened himself as +he reached the end of the bridge and stepped out bravely to the taverns +which stood in a row facing the quay.</p> + +<p>He passed the "Queen Anne"—a mere beershop—without pausing, and after a +glance apiece at the "Royal George" and the "Trusty Anchor," kept on his +way to where the "Golden Key" hung out a gilded emblem. It was the best +house in Riverstone, and patronized by the gentry, but he adjusted his +faded coat, and with a swaggering air entered and walked boldly into the +coffee-room.</p> + +<p>The room was empty, but a bright fire afforded a pleasant change to the +chill October air outside. He drew up a chair, and placing his feet on +the fender, exposed his tattered soles to the blaze, as a waiter who had +just seen him enter the room came and stood aggressively inside the door.</p> + +<p>"Brandy and water," said the stranger; "hot."</p> + +<p>"The coffee-room is for gentlemen staying in the house," said the waiter.</p> + +<p>The stranger took his feet from the fender, and rising slowly, walked +toward him. He was a short man and thin, but there was something so +menacing in his attitude, and something so fearsome in his stony brown +eyes, that the other, despite his disgust for ill-dressed people, moved +back uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Brandy and water, hot," repeated the stranger; "and plenty of it. D'ye +hear?"</p> + +<p>The man turned slowly to depart.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" said the other, imperiously. "What's the name of the landlord +here?"</p> + +<p>"Mullet," said the fellow, sulkily.</p> + +<p>"Send him to me," said the other, resuming his seat; "and hark you, my +friend, more civility, or 'twill be the worse for you."</p> + +<p>He stirred the log on the fire with his foot until a shower of sparks +whirled up the chimney. The door opened, and the landlord, with the +waiter behind him, entered the room, but he still gazed placidly at the +glowing embers.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" demanded the landlord, in a deep voice.</p> + +<p>The stranger turned a little weazened yellow face and grinned at him +familiarly.</p> + +<p>"Send that fat rascal of yours away," he said, slowly.</p> + +<p>The landlord started at his voice and eyed him closely; then he signed to +the man to withdraw, and closing the door behind him, stood silently +watching his visitor.</p> + +<p>"You didn't expect to see me, Rogers," said the latter.</p> + +<p>"My name's Mullet," said the other, sternly. "What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mullet?" said the other, in surprise. "I'm afraid I've made a +mistake, then. I thought you were my old shipmate, Captain Rogers. It's +a foolish mistake of mine, as I've no doubt Rogers was hanged years ago. +You never had a brother named Rogers, did you?"</p> + +<p>"I say again, what do you want?" demanded the other, advancing upon him.</p> + +<p>"Since you're so good," said the other. "I want new clothes, food, and +lodging of the best, and my pockets filled with money."</p> + +<p>"You had better go and look for all those things, then," said Mullet. +"You won't find them here."</p> + +<p>"Ay!" said the other, rising. "Well, well—There was a hundred guineas +on the head of my old shipmate Rogers some fifteen years ago. I'll see +whether it has been earned yet."</p> + +<p>"If I gave you a hundred guineas," said the innkeeper, repressing his +passion by a mighty effort, "you would not be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Reads like a book," said the stranger, in tones of pretended delight. +"What a man it is!"</p> + +<p>He fell back as he spoke, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew +forth a long pistol as the innkeeper, a man of huge frame, edged toward +him.</p> + +<p>"Keep your distance," he said, in a sharp, quick voice.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper, in no wise disturbed at the pistol, turned away calmly, +and ringing the bell, ordered some spirits. Then taking a chair, he +motioned to the other to do the same, and they sat in silence until the +staring waiter had left the room again. The stranger raised his glass.</p> + +<p>"My old friend Captain Rogers," he said, solemnly, "and may he never get +his deserts!"</p> + +<p>"From what jail have you come?" inquired Mullet, sternly.</p> + +<p>"'Pon my soul," said the other, "I have been in so many—looking for +Captain Rogers—that I almost forget the last, but I have just tramped +from London, two hundred and eighty odd miles, for the pleasure of seeing +your damned ugly figure-head again; and now I've found it, I'm going to +stay. Give me some money."</p> + +<p>The innkeeper, without a word, drew a little gold and silver from his +pocket, and placing it on the table, pushed it toward him.</p> + +<p>"Enough to go on with," said the other, pocketing it; "in future it is +halves. D'ye hear me? Halves! And I'll stay here and see I get it."</p> + +<p>He sat back in his chair, and meeting the other's hatred with a gaze as +steady as his own, replaced his pistol.</p> + +<p>"A nice snug harbor after our many voyages," he continued. "Shipmates we +were, shipmates we'll be; while Nick Gunn is alive you shall never want +for company. Lord! Do you remember the Dutch brig, and the fat +frightened mate?"</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten it," said the other, still eyeing him steadfastly. +"I have forgotten many things. For fifteen years I have lived a decent, +honest life. Pray God for your own sinful soul, that the devil in me +does not wake again."</p> + +<p>"Fifteen years is a long nap," said Gunn, carelessly; "what a godsend it +'ll be for you to have me by you to remind you of old times! Why, you're +looking smug, man; the honest innkeeper to the life! Gad! who's the +girl?"</p> + +<p>He rose and made a clumsy bow as a girl of eighteen, after a moment's +hesitation at the door, crossed over to the innkeeper.</p> + +<p>"I'm busy, my dear," said the latter, somewhat sternly.</p> + +<p>"Our business," said Gunn, with another bow, "is finished. Is this your +daughter, Rog— Mullet?"</p> + +<p>"My stepdaughter," was the reply.</p> + +<a name="005"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="005.jpg (87K)" src="images/005.jpg" height="751" width="505"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast, and bowed +again.</p> + +<p>"One of your father's oldest friends," he said smoothly; "and fallen on +evil days; I'm sure your gentle heart will be pleased to hear that your +good father has requested me—for a time—to make his house my home."</p> + +<p>"Any friend of my father's is welcome to me, sir," said the girl, coldly. +She looked from the innkeeper to his odd-looking guest, and conscious of +something strained in the air, gave him a little bow and quitted the +room.</p> + +<p>"You insist upon staying, then?" said Mullet, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"More than ever," replied Gunn, with a leer toward the door. "Why, you +don't think I'm <i>afraid,</i> Captain? You should know me better than that."</p> + +<p>"Life is sweet," said the other.</p> + +<p>"Ay," assented Gunn, "so sweet that you will share things with me to keep +it."</p> + +<p>"No," said the other, with great calm. "I am man enough to have a better +reason."</p> + +<p>"No psalm singing," said Gunn, coarsely. "And look cheerful, you old +buccaneer. Look as a man should look who has just met an old friend +never to lose him again."</p> + +<p>He eyed his man expectantly and put his hand to his pocket again, but the +innkeeper's face was troubled, and he gazed stolidly at the fire.</p> + +<p>"See what fifteen years' honest, decent life does for us," grinned the +intruder.</p> + +<p>The other made no reply, but rising slowly, walked to the door without a +word.</p> + +<p>"Landlord," cried Gunn, bringing his maimed hand sharply down on the +table.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper turned and regarded him.</p> + +<p>"Send me in some supper," said Gunn; "the best you have, and plenty of +it, and have a room prepared. The best."</p> + +<p>The door closed silently, and was opened a little later by the dubious +George coming in to set a bountiful repast. Gunn, after cursing him for +his slowness and awkwardness, drew his chair to the table and made the +meal of one seldom able to satisfy his hunger. He finished at last, and +after sitting for some time smoking, with his legs sprawled on the +fender, rang for a candle and demanded to be shown to his room.</p> + +<p>His proceedings when he entered it were but a poor compliment to his +host. Not until he had poked and pried into every corner did he close +the door. Then, not content with locking it, he tilted a chair beneath +the handle, and placing his pistol beneath his pillow, fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Despite his fatigue he was early astir next morning. Breakfast was laid +for him in the coffee-room, and his brow darkened. He walked into the +hall, and after trying various doors entered a small sitting-room, where +his host and daughter sat at breakfast, and with an easy assurance drew a +chair to the table. The innkeeper helped him without a word, but the +girl's hand shook under his gaze as she passed him some coffee.</p> + +<p>"As soft a bed as ever I slept in," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"I hope that you slept well," said the girl, civilly.</p> + +<p>"Like a child," said Gunn, gravely; "an easy conscience. Eh, Mullet?"</p> + +<p>The innkeeper nodded and went on eating. The other, after another remark +or two, followed his example, glancing occasionally with warm approval at +the beauty of the girl who sat at the head of the table.</p> + +<p>"A sweet girl," he remarked, as she withdrew at the end of the meal; "and +no mother, I presume?"</p> + +<p>"No mother," repeated the other.</p> + +<p>Gunn sighed and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"A sad case, truly," he murmured. "No mother and such a guardian. Poor +soul, if she but knew! Well, we must find her a husband."</p> + +<p>He looked down as he spoke, and catching sight of his rusty clothes and +broken shoes, clapped his hand to his pocket; and with a glance at his +host, sallied out to renew his wardrobe. The innkeeper, with an +inscrutable face, watched him down the quay, then with bent head he +returned to the house and fell to work on his accounts.</p> + +<p>In this work Gunn, returning an hour later, clad from head to foot in new +apparel, offered to assist him. Mullett hesitated, but made no demur; +neither did he join in the ecstasies which his new partner displayed at +the sight of the profits. Gunn put some more gold into his new pockets, +and throwing himself back in a chair, called loudly to George to bring +him some drink.</p> + +<p>In less than a month the intruder was the virtual master of the "Golden +Key." Resistance on the part of the legitimate owner became more and +more feeble, the slightest objection on his part drawing from the +truculent Gunn dark allusions to his past and threats against his future, +which for the sake of his daughter he could not ignore. His health began +to fail, and Joan watched with perplexed terror the growth of a situation +which was in a fair way of becoming unbearable.</p> + +<p>The arrogance of Gunn knew no bounds. The maids learned to tremble at +his polite grin, or his worse freedom, and the men shrank appalled from +his profane wrath. George, after ten years' service, was brutally +dismissed, and refusing to accept dismissal from his hands, appealed to +his master. The innkeeper confirmed it, and with lack-lustre eyes fenced +feebly when his daughter, regardless of Gunn's presence, indignantly +appealed to him.</p> + +<p>"The man was rude to my friend, my dear," he said dispiritedly</p> + +<p>"If he was rude, it was because Mr. Gunn deserved it," said Joan, hotly.</p> + +<p>Gunn laughed uproariously.</p> + +<p>"Gad, my dear, I like you!" he cried, slapping his leg. "You're a girl +of spirit. Now I will make you a fair offer. If you ask for George to +stay, stay he shall, as a favour to your sweet self."</p> + +<p>The girl trembled.</p> + +<p>"Who is master here?" she demanded, turning a full eye on her father.</p> + +<p>Mullet laughed uneasily.</p> + +<p>"This is business," he said, trying to speak lightly, "and women can't +understand it. Gunn is—is valuable to me, and George must go."</p> + +<p>"Unless you plead for him, sweet one?" said Gunn.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at her father again, but he turned his head away and +tapped on the floor with his foot. Then in perplexity, akin to tears, +she walked from the room, carefully drawing her dress aside as Gunn held +the door for her.</p> + +<p>"A fine girl," said Gunn, his thin lips working; "a fine spirit. 'Twill +be pleasant to break it; but she does not know who is master here."</p> + +<p>"She is young yet," said the other, hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"I will soon age her if she looks like that at me again," said Gunn. "By +—, I'll turn out the whole crew into the street, and her with them, an' +I wish it. I'll lie in my bed warm o' nights and think of her huddled on +a doorstep."</p> + +<p>His voice rose and his fists clenched, but he kept his distance and +watched the other warily. The innkeeper's face was contorted and his +brow grew wet. For one moment something peeped out of his eyes; the next +he sat down in his chair again and nervously fingered his chin.</p> + +<p>"I have but to speak," said Gunn, regarding him with much satisfaction, +"and you will hang, and your money go to the Crown. What will become of +her then, think you?"</p> + +<p>The other laughed nervously.</p> + +<p>"'Twould be stopping the golden eggs," he ventured.</p> + +<p>"Don't think too much of that," said Gunn, in a hard voice. "I was never +one to be baulked, as you know."</p> + +<p>"Come, come. Let us be friends," said Mullet; "the girl is young, and +has had her way."</p> + +<p>He looked almost pleadingly at the other, and his voice trembled. Gunn +drew himself up, and regarding him with a satisfied sneer, quitted the +room without a word.</p> + +<p>Affairs at the "Golden Key" grew steadily worse and worse. Gunn +dominated the place, and his vile personality hung over it like a shadow. +Appeals to the innkeeper were in vain; his health was breaking fast, and +he moodily declined to interfere. Gunn appointed servants of his own +choosing-brazen maids and foul-mouthed men. The old patrons ceased to +frequent the "Golden Key," and its bedrooms stood empty. The maids +scarcely deigned to take an order from Joan, and the men spoke to her +familiarly. In the midst of all this the innkeeper, who had complained +once or twice of vertigo, was seized with a fit.</p> + +<p>Joan, flying to him for protection against the brutal advances of Gunn, +found him lying in a heap behind the door of his small office, and in her +fear called loudly for assistance. A little knot of servants collected, +and stood regarding him stupidly. One made a brutal jest. Gunn, +pressing through the throng, turned the senseless body over with his +foot, and cursing vilely, ordered them to carry it upstairs.</p> + +<p>Until the surgeon came, Joan, kneeling by the bed, held on to the +senseless hand as her only protection against the evil faces of Gunn and +his proteges. Gunn himself was taken aback, the innkeeper's death at +that time by no means suiting his aims.</p> + +<p>The surgeon was a man of few words and fewer attainments, but under his +ministrations the innkeeper, after a long interval, rallied. The half-closed eyes opened, +and he looked in a dazed fashion at his surroundings. +Gunn drove the servants away and questioned the man of medicine. The +answers were vague and interspersed with Latin. Freedom from noise and +troubles of all kinds was insisted upon and Joan was installed as nurse, +with a promise of speedy assistance.</p> + +<p>The assistance arrived late in the day in the shape of an elderly woman, +whose Spartan treatment of her patients had helped many along the silent +road. She commenced her reign by punching the sick man's pillows, and +having shaken him into consciousness by this means, gave him a dose of +physic, after first tasting it herself from the bottle.</p> + +<p>After the first rally the innkeeper began to fail slowly. It was seldom +that he understood what was said to him, and pitiful to the beholder to +see in his intervals of consciousness his timid anxiety to earn the good-will +of the all-powerful Gunn. His strength declined until assistance +was needed to turn him in the bed, and his great sinewy hands were +forever trembling and fidgeting on the coverlet.</p> + +<p>Joan, pale with grief and fear, tended him assiduously. Her stepfather's +strength had been a proverb in the town, and many a hasty citizen had +felt the strength of his arm. The increasing lawlessness of the house +filled her with dismay, and the coarse attentions of Gunn became more +persistent than ever. She took her meals in the sick-room, and divided +her time between that and her own.</p> + +<p>Gunn himself was in a dilemma. With Mullet dead, his power was at an end +and his visions of wealth dissipated. He resolved to feather his nest +immediately, and interviewed the surgeon. The surgeon was ominously +reticent, the nurse cheerfully ghoulish.</p> + +<p>"Four days I give him," she said, calmly; "four blessed days, not but +what he might slip away at any moment."</p> + +<p>Gunn let one day of the four pass, and then, choosing a time when Joan +was from the room, entered it for a little quiet conversation. The +innkeeper's eyes were open, and, what was more to the purpose, +intelligent.</p> + +<p>"You're cheating the hangman, after all," snarled Gunn. "I'm off to +swear an information."</p> + +<p>The other, by a great effort, turned his heavy head and fixed his wistful +eyes on him.</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" he whispered. "For her sake—give me—a little time!"</p> + +<p>"To slip your cable, I suppose," quoth Gunn. "Where's your money? +Where's your hoard, you miser?"</p> + +<p>Mullet closed his eyes. He opened them again slowly and strove to think, +while Gunn watched him narrowly. When he spoke, his utterance was thick +and labored.</p> + +<p>"Come to-night," he muttered, slowly. "Give me—time—I will make your +—your fortune. But the nurse-watches."</p> + +<p>"I'll see to her," said Gunn, with a grin. "But tell me now, lest you +die first."</p> + +<p>"You will—let Joan—have a share?" panted the innkeeper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Gunn, hastily.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper strove to raise himself in the bed, and then fell back +again exhausted as Joan's step was heard on the stairs. Gunn gave +a savage glance of warning at him, and barring the progress of the girl +at the door, attempted to salute her. Joan came in pale and trembling, +and falling on her knees by the bedside, took her father's hand in hers +and wept over it. The innkeeper gave a faint groan and a shiver ran +through his body.</p> + +<p>It was nearly an hour after midnight that Nick Gunn, kicking off his +shoes, went stealthily out onto the landing. A little light came from +the partly open door of the sick-room, but all else was in blackness. He +moved along and peered in.</p> + +<p>The nurse was siting in a high-backed oak chair by the fire. She had +slipped down in the seat, and her untidy head hung on her bosom. A glass +stood on the small oak table by her side, and a solitary candle on the +high mantel-piece diffused a sickly light. Gunn entered the room, and +finding that the sick man was dozing, shook him roughly.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper opened his eyes and gazed at him blankly.</p> + +<p>"Wake, you fool," said Gunn, shaking him again.</p> + +<p>The other roused and muttered something incoherently. Then he stirred +slightly.</p> + +<p>"The nurse," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"She's safe enow," said Gunn. "I've seen to that."</p> + +<p>He crossed the room lightly, and standing before the unconscious woman, +inspected her closely and raised her in the chair. Her head fell limply +over the arm.</p> + +<p>"Dead?" inquired Mullet, in a fearful whisper.</p> + +<p>"Drugged," said Gunn, shortly. "Now speak up, and be lively."</p> + +<p>The innkeeper's eyes again travelled in the direction of the nurse.</p> + +<p>"The men," he whispered; "the servants."</p> + +<p>"Dead drunk and asleep," said Gunn, biting the words. "The last day +would hardly rouse them. Now will you speak, damn you!"</p> + +<p>"I must—take care—of Joan," said the father.</p> + +<p>Gunn shook his clenched hand at him.</p> + +<p>"My money—is—is—" said the other. "Promise me on—your oath—Joan."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," growled Gunn; "how many more times? I'll marry her, and she +shall have what I choose to give her. Speak up, you fool! It's not for +you to make terms. Where is it?"</p> + +<p>He bent over, but Mullet, exhausted with his efforts, had closed his eyes +again, and half turned his head.</p> + +<p>"Where is it, damn you?" said Gunn, from between his teeth.</p> + +<p>Mullet opened his eyes again, glanced fearfully round the room, and +whispered. Gunn, with a stifled oath, bent his ear almost to his mouth, +and the next moment his neck was in the grip of the strongest man in +Riverstone, and an arm like a bar of iron over his back pinned him down +across the bed.</p> + +<p>"You dog!" hissed a fierce voice in his ear. "I've got you—Captain +Rogers at your service, and now you may tell his name to all you can. +Shout it, you spawn of hell. Shout it!"</p> + +<p>He rose in bed, and with a sudden movement flung the other over on his +back. Gunn's eyes were starting from his head, and he writhed +convulsively.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were a sharper man, Gunn," said Rogers, still in the same +hot whisper, as he relaxed his grip a little; "you are too simple, you +hound! When you first threatened me I resolved to kill you. Then you +threatened my daughter. I wish that you had nine lives, that I might +take them all. Keep still!"</p> + +<p>He gave a half-glance over his shoulder at the silent figure of the +nurse, and put his weight on the twisting figure on the bed.</p> + +<p>"You drugged the hag, good Gunn," he continued. "To-morrow morning, +Gunn, they will find you in your room dead, and if one of the scum you +brought into my house be charged with the murder, so much the better. +When I am well they will go. I am already feeling a little bit stronger, +Gunn, as you see, and in a month I hope to be about again."</p> + +<p>He averted his face, and for a time gazed sternly and watchfully at the +door. Then he rose slowly to his feet, and taking the dead man in his +arms, bore him slowly and carefully to his room, and laid him a huddled +heap on the floor. Swiftly and noiselessly he put the dead man's shoes +on and turned his pockets inside out, kicked a rug out of place, and put +a guinea on the floor. Then he stole cautiously down stairs and set a +small door at the back open. A dog barked frantically, and he hurried +back to his room. The nurse still slumbered by the fire.</p> + +<p>She awoke in the morning shivering with the cold, and being jealous of +her reputation, rekindled the fire, and measuring out the dose which the +invalid should have taken, threw it away. On these unconscious +preparations for an alibi Captain Rogers gazed through half-closed lids, +and then turning his grim face to the wall, waited for the inevitable +alarm.</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + +<a name="c8"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +A TIGER'S SKIN +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>The travelling sign-painter who was repainting the sign of the +"Cauliflower" was enjoying a well-earned respite from his labours. On +the old table under the shade of the elms mammoth sandwiches and a large +slice of cheese waited in an untied handkerchief until such time as his +thirst should be satisfied. At the other side of the table the oldest +man in Claybury, drawing gently at a long clay pipe, turned a dim and +regretful eye up at the old signboard.</p> + +<p>"I've drunk my beer under it for pretty near seventy years," he said, +with a sigh. "It's a pity it couldn't ha' lasted my time."</p> + +<p>The painter, slowly pushing a wedge of sandwich into his mouth, regarded +him indulgently.</p> + +<p>"It's all through two young gentlemen as was passing through 'ere a month +or two ago," continued the old man; "they told Smith, the landlord, +they'd been looking all over the place for the 'Cauliflower,' and when +Smith showed 'em the sign they said they thought it was the 'George the +Fourth,' and a very good likeness, too."</p> + +<p>The painter laughed and took another look at the old sign; then, with the +nervousness of the true artist, he took a look at his own. One or two +shadows—</p> + +<p>He flung his legs over the bench and took up his brushes. In ten minutes +the most fervent loyalist would have looked in vain for any resemblance, +and with a sigh at the pitfalls which beset the artist he returned to his +interrupted meal and hailed the house for more beer.</p> + +<p>"There's nobody could mistake your sign for anything but a cauliflower," +said the old man; "it looks good enough to eat."</p> + +<p>The painter smiled and pushed his mug across the table. He was a tender-hearted man, +and once—when painting the sign of the "Sir Wilfrid +Lawson"—knew himself what it was to lack beer. He began to discourse on +art, and spoke somewhat disparagingly of the cauliflower as a subject. +With a shake of his head he spoke of the possibilities of a spotted cow +or a blue lion.</p> + +<p>"Talking of lions," said the ancient, musingly, "I s'pose as you never +'eard tell of the Claybury tiger? It was afore your time in these parts, +I expect."</p> + +<p>The painter admitted his ignorance, and, finding that the allusion had no +reference to an inn, pulled out his pipe and prepared to listen.</p> + +<p>"It's a while ago now," said the old man, slowly, "and the circus the +tiger belonged to was going through Claybury to get to Wickham, when, +just as they was passing Gill's farm, a steam-ingine they 'ad to draw +some o' the vans broke down, and they 'ad to stop while the blacksmith +mended it. That being so, they put up a big tent and 'ad the circus +'ere.</p> + +<p>"I was one o' them as went, and I must say it was worth the money, though +Henry Walker was disappointed at the man who put 'is 'ead in the lion's +mouth. He said that the man frightened the lion first, before 'e did it.</p> + +<p>"It was a great night for Claybury, and for about a week nothing else was +talked of. All the children was playing at being lions and tigers and +such-like, and young Roberts pretty near broke 'is back trying to see if +he could ride horseback standing up.</p> + +<p>"It was about two weeks after the circus 'ad gone when a strange thing +'appened: the big tiger broke loose. Bill Chambers brought the news +first, 'aving read it in the newspaper while 'e was 'aving his tea. He +brought out the paper and showed us, and soon after we 'eard all sorts o' +tales of its doings.</p> + +<p>"At first we thought the tiger was a long way off, and we was rather +amused at it. Frederick Scott laughed 'imself silly a'most up 'ere one +night thinking 'ow surprised a man would be if 'e come 'ome one night and +found the tiger sitting in his armchair eating the baby. It didn't seem +much of a laughing matter to me, and I said so; none of us liked it, and +even Sam Jones, as 'ad got twins for the second time, said 'Shame!' +But Frederick Scott was a man as would laugh at anything.</p> + +<p>"When we 'eard that the tiger 'ad been seen within three miles of +Claybury things began to look serious, and Peter Gubbins said that +something ought to be done, but before we could think of anything to do +something 'appened.</p> + +<p>"We was sitting up 'ere one evening 'aving a mug o' beer and a pipe—same +as I might be now if I'd got any baccy left—and talking about it, when +we 'eard a shout and saw a ragged-looking tramp running toward us as 'ard +as he could run. Every now and then he'd look over 'is shoulder and give +a shout, and then run 'arder than afore.</p> + +<p>"'It's the tiger!' ses Bill Chambers, and afore you could wink a'most he +was inside the house, 'aving first upset Smith and a pot o' beer in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>"Before he could get up, Smith 'ad to wait till we was all in. His +langwidge was awful for a man as 'ad a license to lose, and everybody +shouting 'Tiger!' as they trod on 'im didn't ease 'is mind. He was +inside a'most as soon as the last man, though, and in a flash he 'ad the +door bolted just as the tramp flung 'imself agin it, all out of breath +and sobbing 'is hardest to be let in.</p> + +<p>"'Open the door,' he ses, banging on it.</p> + +<p>"'Go away,' ses Smith.</p> + +<p>"'It's the tiger,' screams the tramp; 'open the door.'</p> + +<p>"'You go away,' ses Smith, 'you're attracting it to my place; run up the +road and draw it off.'"</p> + +<p>"Just at that moment John Biggs, the blacksmith, come in from the +taproom, and as soon as he 'eard wot was the matter 'e took down Smith's +gun from behind the bar and said he was going out to look after the +wimmen and children.</p> + +<p>"'Open the door,' he ses.</p> + +<p>"He was trying to get out and the tramp outside was trying to get in, +but Smith held on to that door like a Briton. Then John Biggs lost 'is +temper, and he ups with the gun—Smith's own gun, mind you—and fetches +'im a bang over the 'ead with it. Smith fell down at once, and afore we +could 'elp ourselves the door was open, the tramp was inside, and John +Biggs was running up the road, shouting 'is hardest.</p> + +<p>"We 'ad the door closed afore you could wink a'most, and then, while the +tramp lay in a corner 'aving brandy, Mrs. Smith got a bowl of water and a +sponge and knelt down bathing 'er husband's 'ead with it.</p> + +<p>"'Did you see the tiger?' ses Bill Chambers.</p> + +<p>"'See it?' ses the tramp, with a shiver. 'Oh, Lord!'</p> + +<p>"He made signs for more brandy, and Henery Walker, wot was acting as +landlord, without being asked, gave it to 'im.</p> + +<p>"'It chased me for over a mile,' ses the tramp; 'my 'eart's breaking.'</p> + +<p>"He gave a groan and fainted right off. A terrible faint it was, too, +and for some time we thought 'ed never come round agin. First they +poured brandy down 'is throat, then gin, and then beer, and still 'e +didn't come round, but lay quiet with 'is eyes closed and a horrible +smile on 'is face.</p> + +<p>"He come round at last, and with nothing stronger than water, which Mrs. +Smith kept pouring into 'is mouth. First thing we noticed was that the +smile went, then 'is eyes opened, and suddenly 'e sat up with a shiver +and gave such a dreadful scream that we thought at first the tiger was on +top of us.</p> + +<p>"Then 'e told us 'ow he was sitting washing 'is shirt in a ditch, when he +'eard a snuffling noise and saw the 'ead of a big tiger sticking through +the hedge the other side. He left 'is shirt and ran, and 'e said that, +fortunately, the tiger stopped to tear the shirt to pieces, else 'is last +hour would 'ave arrived.</p> + +<p>"When 'e 'ad finished Smith went upstairs and looked out of the bedroom +winders, but 'e couldn't see any signs of the tiger, and 'e said no doubt +it 'ad gone down to the village to see wot it could pick up, or p'raps it +'ad eaten John Biggs.</p> + +<p>"However that might be, nobody cared to go outside to see, and after it +got dark we liked going 'ome less than ever.</p> + +<p>"Up to ten o'clock we did very well, and then Smith began to talk about +'is license. He said it was all rubbish being afraid to go 'ome, and +that, at any rate, the tiger couldn't eat more than one of us, and while +'e was doing that there was the chance for the others to get 'ome safe. +Two or three of 'em took a dislike to Smith that night and told 'im so.</p> + +<p>"The end of it was we all slept in the tap-room that night. It seemed +strange at first, but anything was better than going 'ome in the dark, +and we all slept till about four next morning, when we woke up and found +the tramp 'ad gone and left the front door standing wide open.</p> + +<p>"We took a careful look-out, and by-and-by first one started off and then +another to see whether their wives and children 'ad been eaten or not. +Not a soul 'ad been touched, but the wimmen and children was that scared +there was no doing anything with 'em. None o' the children would go to +school, and they sat at 'ome all day with the front winder blocked up +with a mattress to keep the tiger out.</p> + +<p>"Nobody liked going to work, but it 'ad to be done and as Farmer Gill +said that tigers went to sleep all day and only came out toward evening +we was a bit comforted. Not a soul went up to the 'Cauliflower' that +evening for fear of coming 'ome in the dark, but as nothing 'appened that +night we began to 'ope as the tiger 'ad travelled further on.</p> + +<p>"Bob Pretty laughed at the whole thing and said 'e didn't believe there +was a tiger; but nobody minded wot 'e said, Bob Pretty being, as I've +often told people, the black sheep o' Claybury, wot with poaching and, +wot was worse, 'is artfulness.</p> + +<p>"But the very next morning something 'appened that made Bob Pretty look +silly and wish 'e 'adn't talked quite so fast; for at five o'clock +Frederick Scott, going down to feed 'is hins, found as the tiger 'ad been +there afore 'im and 'ad eaten no less than seven of 'em. The side of the +hin-'ouse was all broke in, there was a few feathers lying on the ground, +and two little chicks smashed and dead beside 'em.</p> + +<p>"The way Frederick Scott went on about it you'd 'ardly believe. He said +that Govinment 'ud 'ave to make it up to 'im, and instead o' going to +work 'e put the two little chicks and the feathers into a pudding basin +and walked to Cudford, four miles off, where they 'ad a policeman.</p> + +<p>"He saw the policeman, William White by name, standing at the back door +of the 'Fox and Hounds' public house, throwing a 'andful o' corn to the +landlord's fowls, and the first thing Mr. White ses was, 'it's off my +beat,' he ses.</p> + +<p>"'But you might do it in your spare time, Mr. White,' ses Frederick +Scott. It's very likely that the tiger'll come back to my hin 'ouse for +the rest of 'em, and he'd be very surprised if 'e popped 'is 'ead in and +see you there waiting for 'im.'</p> + +<p>"He'd 'ave reason to be,' ses Policeman White, staring at 'im.</p> + +<p>"'Think of the praise you'd get,' said Frederick Scott, coaxing like.</p> + +<p>"'Look 'ere,' ses Policeman White, 'if you don't take yourself and that +pudding basin off pretty quick, you'll come along o' me, d'ye see? +You've been drinking and you're in a excited state.'</p> + +<p>"He gave Frederick Scott a push and follered 'im along the road, and +every time Frederick stopped to ask 'im wot 'e was doing of 'e gave 'im +another push to show 'im.</p> + +<p>"Frederick Scott told us all about it that evening, and some of the +bravest of us went up to the 'Cauliflower' to talk over wot was to be +done, though we took care to get 'ome while it was quite light. That +night Peter Gubbins's two pigs went. They were two o' the likeliest pigs +I ever seed, and all Peter Gubbins could do was to sit up in bed +shivering and listening to their squeals as the tiger dragged 'em off. +Pretty near all Claybury was round that sty next morning looking at the +broken fence. Some of them looked for the tiger's footmarks, but it was +dry weather and they couldn't see any. Nobody knew whose turn it would +be next, and the most sensible man there, Sam Jones, went straight off +'ome and killed his pig afore 'e went to work.</p> + +<p>"Nobody knew what to do; Farmer Hall said as it was a soldier's job, and +'e drove over to Wickham to tell the police so, but nothing came of it, +and that night at ten minutes to twelve Bill Chambers's pig went. It was +one o' the biggest pigs ever raised in Claybury, but the tiger got it off +as easy as possible. Bill 'ad the bravery to look out of the winder when +'e 'eard the pig squeal, but there was such a awful snarling noise that +'e daresn't move 'and or foot.</p> + +<p>"Dicky Weed's idea was for people with pigs and such-like to keep 'em in +the house of a night, but Peter Gubbins and Bill Chambers both pointed +out that the tiger could break a back door with one blow of 'is paw, and +that if 'e got inside he might take something else instead o' pig. And +they said that it was no worse for other people to lose pigs than wot it +was for them.</p> + +<p>"The odd thing about it was that all this time nobody 'ad ever seen the +tiger except the tramp and people sent their children back to school agin +and felt safe going about in the daytime till little Charlie Gubbins came +running 'ome crying and saying that 'e'd seen it. Next morning a lot +more children see it and was afraid to go to school, and people began to +wonder wot 'ud happen when all the pigs and poultry was eaten.</p> + +<p>"Then Henery Walker see it. We was sitting inside 'ere with scythes, and +pitchforks, and such-like things handy, when we see 'im come in without +'is hat. His eyes were staring and 'is hair was all rumpled. He called +for a pot o' ale and drank it nearly off, and then 'e sat gasping and +'olding the mug between 'is legs and shaking 'is 'ead at the floor till +everybody 'ad left off talking to look at 'im.</p> + +<p>"'Wot's the matter, Henery?' ses one of 'em.</p> + +<p>"'Don't ask me,' ses Henery Walker, with a shiver.</p> + +<p>"'You don't mean to say as 'ow you've seen the tiger?" ses Bill +Chambers.</p> + +<p>"Henery Walker didn't answer 'im. He got up and walked back'ards and +for'ards, still with that frightened look in 'is eyes, and once or twice +'e give such a terrible start that 'e frightened us 'arf out of our wits. +Then Bill Chambers took and forced 'im into a chair and give 'im two o' +gin and patted 'im on the back, and at last Henery Walker got 'is senses +back agin and told us 'ow the tiger 'ad chased 'im all round and round +the trees in Plashett's Wood until 'e managed to climb up a tree and +escape it. He said the tiger 'ad kept 'im there for over an hour, and +then suddenly turned round and bolted off up the road to Wickham.</p> + +<p>"It was a merciful escape, and everybody said so except Sam Jones, and 'e +asked so many questions that at last Henery Walker asked 'im outright if +'e disbelieved 'is word.</p> + +<p>"'It's all right, Sam,' ses Bob Pretty, as 'ad come in just after Henery +Walker. 'I see 'im with the tiger after 'im.'</p> + +<p>"'Wot?' ses Henery, staring at him.</p> + +<p>"'I see it all, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'and I see your pluck. It was +all you could do to make up your mind to run from it. I believe if you'd +'ad a fork in your 'and you'd 'ave made a fight for it."</p> + +<p>"Everybody said 'Bravo!'; but Henery Walker didn't seem to like it at +all. He sat still, looking at Bob Pretty, and at last 'e ses, 'Where was +you?' 'e s,es.</p> + +<p>"'Up another tree, Henery, where you couldn't see me,' ses Bob Pretty, +smiling at 'im.</p> + +<p>"Henery Walker, wot was drinking some beer, choked a bit, and then 'e put +the mug down and went straight off 'ome without saying a word to anybody. +I knew 'e didn't like Bob Pretty, but I couldn't see why 'e should be +cross about 'is speaking up for 'im as 'e had done, but Bob said as it +was 'is modesty, and 'e thought more of 'im for it.</p> + +<p>"After that things got worse than ever; the wimmen and children stayed +indoors and kept the doors shut, and the men never knew when they went +out to work whether they'd come 'ome agin. They used to kiss their +children afore they went out of a morning, and their wives too, some of +'em; even men who'd been married for years did. And several more of 'em +see the tiger while they was at work, and came running 'ome to tell about +it.</p> + +<p>"The tiger 'ad been making free with Claybury pigs and such-like for +pretty near a week, and nothing 'ad been done to try and catch it, and +wot made Claybury men madder than anything else was folks at Wickham +saying it was all a mistake, and the tiger 'adn't escaped at all. Even +parson, who'd been away for a holiday, said so, and Henery Walker told +'is wife that if she ever set foot inside the church agin 'ed ask 'is old +mother to come and live with 'em.</p> + +<p>"It was all very well for parson to talk, but the very night he come back +Henery Walker's pig went, and at the same time George Kettle lost five or +six ducks.</p> + +<p>"He was a quiet man, was George, but when 'is temper was up 'e didn't +care for anything. Afore he came to Claybury 'e 'ad been in the Militia, +and that evening at the 'Cauliflower' 'e turned up with a gun over 'is +shoulder and made a speech, and asked who was game to go with 'im and +hunt the tiger. Bill Chambers, who was still grieving after 'is pig, +said 'e would, then another man offered, until at last there was +seventeen of 'em. Some of 'em 'ad scythes and some pitchforks, and one +or two of 'em guns, and it was one o' the finest sights I ever seed when +George Kettle stood 'em in rows of four and marched 'em off.</p> + +<p>"They went straight up the road, then across Farmer Gill's fields to get +to Plashett's wood, where they thought the tiger 'ud most likely be, and +the nearer they got to the wood the slower they walked. The sun 'ad just +gone down and the wood looked very quiet and dark, but John Biggs, the +blacksmith, and George Kettle walked in first and the others follered, +keeping so close together that Sam Jones 'ad a few words over his +shoulder with Bill Chambers about the way 'e was carrying 'is pitchfork.</p> + +<p>"Every now and then somebody 'ud say, <i>'Wot's that!'</i> and they'd all stop +and crowd together and think the time 'ad come, but it 'adn't, and then +they'd go on agin, trembling, until they'd walked all round the wood +without seeing anything but one or two rabbits. John Biggs and George +Kettle wanted for to stay there till it was dark, but the others wouldn't +'ear of it for fear of frightening their wives, and just as it was +getting dark they all come tramp, tramp, back to the 'Cauliflower' agin.</p> + +<p>"Smith stood 'em 'arf a pint apiece, and they was all outside 'ere +fancying theirselves a bit for wot they'd done when we see old man +Parsley coming along on two sticks as fast as 'e could come.</p> + +<p>"'Are you brave lads a-looking for the tiger?' he asks.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' ses John Biggs.</p> + +<p>"'Then 'urry up, for the sake of mercy,' ses old Mr. Parsley, putting 'is +'and on the table and going off into a fit of coughing; 'it's just gone +into Bob Pretty's cottage. I was passing and saw it.'</p> + +<p>"George Kettle snatches up 'is gun and shouts out to 'is men to come +along. Some of 'em was for 'anging back at first, some because they +didn't like the tiger and some because they didn't like Bob Pretty, but +John Biggs drove 'em in front of 'im like a flock o' sheep and then they +gave a cheer and ran after George Kettle, full pelt up the road.</p> + +<p>"A few wimmen and children was at their doors as they passed, but they +took fright and went indoors screaming. There was a lamp in Bob Pretty's +front room, but the door was closed and the 'ouse was silent as the +grave.</p> + +<p>"George Kettle and the men with the guns went first, then came the +pitchforks, and last of all the scythes. Just as George Kettle put 'is +'and on the door he 'eard something moving inside, and the next moment +the door opened and there stood Bob Pretty.</p> + +<p>"'What the dickens!' 'e ses, starting back as 'e see the guns and +pitchforks pointing at 'im.</p> + +<p>"''Ave you killed it, Bob?' ses George Kettle.</p> + +<p>"'Killed <i>wot?'</i> ses Bob Pretty. 'Be careful o' them guns. Take your +fingers off the triggers.'</p> + +<p>"'The tiger's in your 'ouse, Bob,' ses George Kettle, in a whisper. +''Ave you on'y just come in?'</p> + +<p>"'Look 'ere,' ses Bob Pretty. 'I don't want any o' your games. You go +and play 'em somewhere else.'</p> + +<p>"'It ain't a game,' ses John Biggs; 'the tiger's in your 'ouse and we're +going to kill it. Now, then, lads.'</p> + +<p>"They all went in in a 'eap, pushing Bob Pretty in front of 'em, till the +room was full. Only one man with a scythe got in, and they wouldn't 'ave +let 'im in if they'd known. It a'most made 'em forget the tiger for the +time.</p> + +<p>"George Kettle opened the door wot led into the kitchen, and then 'e +sprang back with such a shout that the man with the scythe tried to +escape, taking Henery Walker along with 'im. George Kettle tried to +speak, but couldn't. All 'e could do was to point with 'is finger at Bob +Pretty's kitchen—<i>and Bob Pretty's kitchen was for all the world like a +pork-butcher's shop</i>. There was joints o' pork 'anging from the ceiling, +two brine tubs as full as they could be, and quite a string of fowls and +ducks all ready for market.</p> + +<p>"'Wot d'ye mean by coming into my 'ouse?' ses Bob Pretty, blustering. +'If you don't clear out pretty quick, I'll make you.'</p> + +<p>"Nobody answered 'im; they was all examining 'ands o' pork and fowls and +such-like.</p> + +<p>"'There's the tiger,' ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; 'that's +wot old man Parsley meant.'</p> + +<p>"'Somebody go and fetch Policeman White,' ses a voice.</p> + +<p>"'I wish they would,' ses Bob Pretty. 'I'll 'ave the law on you all for +breaking into my 'ouse like this, see if I don't.'</p> + +<p>"'Where'd you get all this pork from?' ses the blacksmith.</p> + +<p>"'And them ducks and hins?' ses George Kettle.</p> + +<p>"'That's my bisness,' ses Bob Pretty, staring 'em full in the face. 'I +just 'ad a excellent oppertunity offered me of going into the pork and +poultry line and I took it. Now, all them as doesn't want to buy any +pork or fowls go out o' my house.'</p> + +<p>"'You're a thief, Bob Pretty!' says Henery Walker. 'You stole it all.'</p> + +<p>"'Take care wot you're saying, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'else I'll make +you prove your words.'</p> + +<p>"'You stole my pig,' ses Herbert Smith.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, 'ave I?' ses Bob, reaching down a 'and o' pork. 'Is that your +pig?' he ses.</p> + +<p>"'It's just about the size o' my pore pig,' ses Herbert Smith.</p> + +<p>"'Very usual size, I call it,' ses Bob Pretty; 'and them ducks and hins +very usual-looking hins and ducks, I call 'em, except that they don't +grow 'em so fat in these parts. It's a fine thing when a man's doing a +honest bisness to 'ave these charges brought agin 'im. Dis'eartening, I +call it. I don't mind telling you that the tiger got in at my back +winder the other night and took arf a pound o' sausage, but you don't +'ear me complaining and going about calling other people thieves.'</p> + +<p>"'Tiger be hanged,' ses Henery Walker, who was almost certain that a loin +o' pork on the table was off 'is pig; 'you're the only tiger in these +parts.'</p> + +<p>"Why, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'wot are you a-thinkin' of? Where's your +memory? Why, it's on'y two or three days ago you see it and 'ad to get +up a tree out of its way.'</p> + +<p>"He smiled and shook 'is 'ead at 'im, but Henery Walker on'y kept opening +and shutting 'is mouth, and at last 'e went outside without saying a +word.</p> + +<p>"'And Sam Jones see it, too,' ses Bob Pretty; 'didn't you, Sam?'</p> + +<p>"Sam didn't answer 'im.</p> + +<p>"'And Charlie Hall and Jack Minns and a lot more,' ses Bob; 'besides, I +see it myself. I can believe my own eyes, I s'pose?'</p> + +<p>"'We'll have the law on you,' ses Sam Jones.</p> + +<p>"'As you like,' ses Bob Pretty; 'but I tell you plain, I've got all the +bills for this properly made out, upstairs. And there's pretty near a +dozen of you as'll 'ave to go in the box and swear as you saw the tiger. +Now, can I sell any of you a bit o' pork afore you go? It's delicious +eating, and as soon as you taste it you'll know it wasn't grown in +Claybury. Or a pair o' ducks wot 'ave come from two 'undered miles off, +and yet look as fresh as if they was on'y killed last night.'</p> + +<p>"George Kettle, whose ducks 'ad gone the night afore, went into the front +room and walked up and down fighting for 'is breath, but it was all no +good; nobody ever got the better o' Bob Pretty. None of 'em could swear +to their property, and even when it became known a month later that Bob +Pretty and the tramp knew each other, nothing was done. But nobody ever +'eard any more of the tiger from that day to this."</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + +<a name="c9"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +A MIXED PROPOSAL +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>Major Brill, late of the Fenshire Volununteers, stood in front of the +small piece of glass in the hatstand, and with a firm and experienced +hand gave his new silk hat a slight tilt over the right eye. Then he +took his cane and a new pair of gloves, and with a military but squeaky +tread, passed out into the road. It was a glorious day in early autumn, +and the soft English landscape was looking its best, but despite the fact +that there was nothing more alarming in sight than a few cows on the +hillside a mile away, the Major paused at his gate, and his face took on +an appearance of the greatest courage and resolution before proceeding. +The road was dusty and quiet, except for the children playing at cottage +doors, and so hot that the Major, heedless of the fact that he could not +replace the hat at exactly the same angle, stood in the shade of a tree +while he removed it and mopped his heated brow.</p> + +<p>He proceeded on his way more leisurely, overtaking, despite his lack of +speed, another man who was walking still more slowly in the shade of the +hedge.</p> + +<p>"Fine day, Halibut," he said, briskly; "fine day."</p> + +<p>"Beautiful," said the other, making no attempt to keep pace with him.</p> + +<p>"Country wants rain, though," cried the Major over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Halibut assented, and walking slowly on, wondered vaguely what gaudy +color it was that had attracted his eye. It dawned on him at length that +it must be the Major's tie, and he suddenly quickened his pace, by no +means reassured as the man of war also quickened his.</p> + +<p>"Halloa, Brill!" he cried. "Half a moment."</p> + +<p>The Major stopped and waited for his friend; Halibut eyed the tie +uneasily—it was fearfully and wonderfully made—but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said the Major, somewhat sharply.</p> + +<p>"Oh—I was going to ask you, Brill—Confound it! I've forgotten what I +was going to say now. I daresay I shall soon think of it. You're not in +a hurry?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I am, rather," said Brill. "Fact is— Is my hat on straight, +Halibut?"</p> + +<p>The other assuring him that it was, the Major paused in his career, and +gripping the brim with both hands, deliberately tilted it over the right +eye again.</p> + +<p>"You were saying—" said Halibut, regarding this manoeuvre with secret +disapproval.</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured the Major, "I was saying. Well, I don't mind telling an +old friend like you, Halibut, though it is a profound secret. Makes me +rather particular about my dress just now. Women notice these things. +I'm—sha'nt get much sympathy from a confirmed old bachelor like you—but +I'm on my way to put a very momentous question."</p> + +<p>"The devil you are!" said the other, blankly.</p> + +<p>"Sir!" said the astonished Major.</p> + +<p>"Not Mrs. Riddel?" said Halibut.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir," said the Major, stiffly. "Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Only that I am going on the same errand," said the confirmed bachelor, +with desperate calmness.</p> + +<p>The Major looked at him, and for the first time noticed an unusual +neatness and dressiness in his friend's attire. His collar was higher +than usual; his tie, of the whitest and finest silk, bore a pin he never +remembered to have seen before; and for the first time since he had known +him, the Major, with a strange sinking at the heart, saw that he wore +spats.</p> + +<p>"This is extraordinary," he said, briefly. "Well, good-day, Halibut. +Can't stop."</p> + +<p>"Good-day," said the other.</p> + +<p>The Major quickened his pace and shot ahead, and keeping in the shade of +the hedge, ground his teeth as the civilian on the other side of the road +slowly, but surely, gained on him.</p> + +<p>It became exciting. The Major was handicapped by his upright bearing and +short military stride; the other, a simple child of the city, bent +forward, swinging his arms and taking immense strides. At a by-lane they +picked up three small boys, who, trotting in their rear, made it evident +by their remarks that they considered themselves the privileged +spectators of a foot-race. The Major could stand it no longer, and with +a cut of his cane at the foremost boy, softly called a halt.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Halibut, stopping.</p> + +<p>The man's manner was suspicious, not to say offensive, and the other had +much ado to speak him fair.</p> + +<p>"This is ridiculous," he said, trying to smile. "We can't walk in and +propose in a duet. One of us must go to-day and the other to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Halibut; "that'll be the best plan."</p> + +<p>"So childish," said the Major, with a careless laugh, "two fellows +walking in hot and tired and proposing to her."</p> + +<p>"Absurd," replied Halibut, and both men eyed each other carefully.</p> + +<p>"So, if I'm unsuccessful, old chap," said the Major, in a voice which he +strove to render natural and easy, "I will come straight back to your +place and let you know, so as not to keep you in suspense."</p> + +<p>"You're very good," said Halibut, with some emotion; "but I think I'll +take to-day, because I have every reason to believe that I have got one +of my bilious attacks coming on to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Pooh! fancy, my dear fellow," said the Major, heartily; "I never saw you +look better in my life."</p> + +<p>"That's one of the chief signs," replied Halibut, shaking his head. "I'm +afraid I must go to-day."</p> + +<p>"I really cannot waive my right on account of your bilious attack," said +the Major haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Your right?" said Halibut, with spirit.</p> + +<p>"My right!" repeated the other. "I should have been there before you if +you had not stopped me in the first place."</p> + +<p>"But I started first," said Halibut.</p> + +<p>"Prove it," exclaimed the Major, warmly.</p> + +<p>The other shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly not give way," he said, calmly. "This is a matter in +which my whole future is concerned. It seems very odd, not to say +inconvenient, that you should have chosen the same day as myself, Brill, +for such an errand—very odd."</p> + +<p>"It's quite an accident," asseverated the Major; "as a matter of fact, +Halibut, I nearly went yesterday. That alone gives me, I think, some +claim to precedence."</p> + +<p>"Just so," said Halibut, slowly; "it constitutes an excellent claim."</p> + +<p>The Major regarded him with moistening eyes. This was generous and +noble. His opinion of Halibut rose. "And now you have been so frank +with me," said the latter, "it is only fair that you should know I +started out with the same intention three days ago and found her out. +So far as claims go, I think mine leads."</p> + +<p>"Pure matter of opinion," said the disgusted Major; "it really seems as +though we want an arbitrator. Well, we'll have to make our call +together, I suppose, but I'll take care not to give you any opportunity, +Halibut, so don't cherish any delusions on that point. Even you wouldn't +have the hardihood to propose before a third party, I should think; but +if you do, I give you fair warning that I shall begin, too."</p> + +<p>"This is most unseemly," said Halibut. "We'd better both go home and +leave it for another day."</p> + +<p>"When do you propose going, then?" asked the Major.</p> + +<p>"Really, I haven't made up my mind," replied the other.</p> + +<p>The Major shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It won't do, Halibut," he said, grimly; "it won't do. I'm too old a +soldier to be caught that way."</p> + +<p>There was a long pause. The Major mopped his brow again. "I've got it," +he said at last.</p> + +<p>Halibut looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>"We must play for first proposal," said the Major, firmly. "We're pretty +evenly matched."</p> + +<p>"Chess?" gasped the other, a whole world of protest in his tones.</p> + +<p>"Chess," repeated the Major.</p> + +<p>"It is hardly respectful," demurred Halibut. "What do you think the lady +would do if she heard of it?"</p> + +<p>"Laugh," replied the Major, with conviction.</p> + +<p>"I believe she would," said the other, brightening. "I believe she +would."</p> + +<p>"You agree, then?"</p> + +<p>"With conditions."</p> + +<p>"Conditions?" repeated the Major.</p> + +<p>"One game," said Halibut, speaking very slowly and distinctly; "and if +the winner is refused, the loser not to propose until he gives him +permission."</p> + +<p>"What the deuce for?" inquired the other, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Suppose I win," replied Halibut, with suspicious glibness, "and was so +upset that I had one of my bilious attacks come on, where should I be? +Why, I might have to break off in the middle and go home. A fellow can't +propose when everything in the room is going round and round."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you ought to contemplate marriage, Halibut," remarked the +Major, very seriously and gently.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Halibut, dryly.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Major, "I agree to the conditions. Better come to +my place and we'll decide it now. If we look sharp, the winner may be +able to know his fate to-day, after all."</p> + +<p>Halibut assenting, they walked back together. The feverish joy of the +gambler showed in the Major's eye as they drew their chairs up to the +little antique chess table and began to place their pieces ready for the +fray. Then a thought struck him, and he crossed over to the sideboard.</p> + +<p>"If you're feeling a bit off colour, Halibut," he said, kindly, "you'd +better have a little brandy to pull yourself together. I don't wish to +take a mean advantage."</p> + +<p>"You're very good," said the other, as he eyed the noble measure of +liquid poured out by his generous adversary.</p> + +<p>"And now to business," said the Major, as he drew himself a little soda +from a siphon.</p> + +<p>"Now to business," repeated Halibut, rising and placing his glass on the +mantel-piece.</p> + +<p>The Major struggled fiercely with his feelings, but, despite himself, a +guilty blush lent colour to the other's unfounded suspicions.</p> + +<p>"Remember the conditions," said Halibut, impressively.</p> + +<p>"Here's my hand on it," said the other, reaching over.</p> + +<p>Halibut took it, and, his thoughts being at the moment far away, gave it +a tender, respectful squeeze. The Major stared and coughed. It was +suggestive of practice.</p> + +<p>If the history of the duel is ever written, it will be found not unworthy +of being reckoned with the most famous combats of ancient times. Piece +after piece was removed from the board, and the Major drank glass after +glass of soda to cool his heated brain. At the second glass Halibut took +an empty tumbler and helped himself. Suddenly there was a singing in the +Major's ears, and a voice, a hateful, triumphant voice, said,</p> + +<p>"Checkmate!"</p> + +<p>Then did his gaze wander from knight to bishop and bishop to castle in a +vain search for succour. There was his king defied by a bishop—a bishop +which had been hobnobbing with pawns in one corner of the board, and +which he could have sworn he had captured and removed full twenty minutes +before. He mentioned this impression to Halibut.</p> + +<p>"That was the other one," said his foe. "I thought you had forgotten +this. I have been watching and hoping so for the last half-hour."</p> + +<p>There was no disguising the coarse satisfaction of the man. He had +watched and hoped. Not beaten him, so the Major told himself, in fair +play, but by taking a mean and pitiful advantage of a pure oversight. A +sheer oversight. He admitted it.</p> + +<p>Halibut rose with a sigh of relief, and the Major, mechanically sweeping +up the pieces, dropped them one by one into the box.</p> + +<p>"Plenty of time," said the victor, glancing at the clock. "I shall go +now, but I should like a wash first."</p> + +<p>The Major rose, and in his capacity of host led the way upstairs to his +room, and poured fresh water for his foe. Halibut washed himself +delicately, carefully trimming his hair and beard, and anxiously +consulting the Major as to the set of his coat in the back, after +he had donned it again.</p> + +<p>His toilet completed, he gave a satisfied glance in the glass, and then +followed the man of war sedately down stairs. At the hall he paused, and +busied himself with the clothes-brush and hat-pad, modestly informing his +glaring friend that he could not afford to throw any chances away, and +then took his departure.</p> + +<p>The Major sat up late that night waiting for news, but none came, and by +breakfast-time next morning his thirst for information became almost +uncontrollable. He toyed with a chop and allowed his coffee to get cold. +Then he clapped on his hat and set off to Halibut's to know the worst.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he inquired, as he followed the other into his dining-room.</p> + +<p>"I went," said Halibut, waving him to a chair.</p> + +<p>"Am I to congratulate you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know," was the reply; "perhaps not just yet."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" said the Major, irascibly.</p> + +<p>"Well, as a matter of fact," said Halibut, "she refused me, but so nicely +and so gently that I scarcely minded it. In fact, at first I hardly +realized that she had refused me."</p> + +<p>The Major rose, and regarding his poor friend kindly, shook and patted +him lightly on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"She's a splendid woman," said Halibut. "Ornament to her sex," remarked +the Major.</p> + +<p>"So considerate," murmured the bereaved one.</p> + +<p>"Good women always are," said the Major, decisively. "I don't think I'd +better worry her to-day, Halibut, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Halibut, stiffly.</p> + +<p>"I'll try my luck to-morrow," said the Major.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said Halibut.</p> + +<p>"Eh?" said the Major, trying to look puzzled.</p> + +<p>"You are forgetting the conditions of the game," replied Halibut. "You +have to obtain my permission first."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear fellow," said the Major, with a boisterous laugh. +"I wouldn't insult you by questioning your generosity in such a case. +No, no, Halibut, old fellow, I know you too well."</p> + +<p>He spoke with feeling, but there was an anxious note in his voice.</p> + +<p>"We must abide by the conditions," said Halibut, slowly; "and I must +inform you, Brill, that I intend to renew the attack myself."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir," said the Major, fuming, "you compel me to say—putting all +modesty aside—that I believe the reason Mrs. Riddel would have nothing +to do with you was because she thought somebody else might make a similar +offer."</p> + +<p>"That's what I thought," said Halibut, simply; "but you see now that you +have so unaccountably—so far as Mrs. Riddel is concerned—dropped out of +the running, perhaps, if I am gently persistent, she'll take me."</p> + +<p>The Major rose and glared at him.</p> + +<p>"If you don't take care, old chap," said Halibut, tenderly, "you'll burst +something."</p> + +<p>"Gently persistent," repeated the Major, staring at him; "gently +persistent."</p> + +<p>"Remember Bruce and his spider," smiled the other.</p> + +<p>"You are not going to propose to that poor woman nine times?" roared his +incensed friend.</p> + +<p>"I hope that it will not be necessary," was the reply; "but if it is, I +can assure you, my dear Brill, that I'm not going to be outclassed by a +mere spider."</p> + +<p>"But think of her feelings!" gasped the Major.</p> + +<p>"I have," was the reply; "and I'm sure she'll thank me for it afterward. +You see, Brill, you and I are the only eligibles in the place, and now +you are out of it, she's sure to take me sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"And pray how long am I to wait?" demanded the Major, controlling +himself with difficulty.</p> + +<p>"I can't say," said Halibut; "but I don't think it's any good your +waiting at all, because if I see any signs that Mrs. Riddel is waiting +for you I may just give her a hint of the hopelessness of it."</p> + +<p>"You're a perfect Mephistopheles, sir!" bawled the indignant Major. +Halibut bowed.</p> + +<p>"Strategy, my dear Brill," he said, smiling; "strategy. Now why waste +your time? Why not make some other woman happy? Why not try her +companion, Miss Philpotts? I'm sure any little assistance—"</p> + +<p>The Major's attitude was so alarming that the sentence was never +finished, and a second later the speaker found himself alone, watching +his irate friend hurrying frantically down the path, knocking the blooms +off the geraniums with his cane as he went. He saw no more of him for +several weeks, the Major preferring to cherish his resentment in the +privacy of his house. The Major also refrained from seeing the widow, +having a wholesome dread as to what effect the contemplation of her +charms might have upon his plighted word.</p> + +<p>He met her at last by chance. Mrs. Riddel bowed coldly and would have +passed on, but the Major had already stopped, and was making wild and +unmerited statements about the weather.</p> + +<p>"It is seasonable," she said, simply.</p> + +<p>The Major agreed with her, and with a strong-effort regained his +composure.</p> + +<p>"I was just going to turn back," he said, untruthfully; "may I walk with +you?"</p> + +<p>"I am not going far," was the reply.</p> + +<p>With soldierly courage the Major took this as permission; with feminine +precision Mrs. Riddel walked about fifty yards and then stopped. "I told +you I wasn't going far," she said sweetly, as she held out her hand. +"Goodby."</p> + +<p>"I wanted to ask you something," said the Major, turning with her. "I +can't think what it was.</p> + +<p>They walked on very slowly, the Major's heart beating rapidly as he told +himself that the lady's coldness was due to his neglect of the past few +weeks, and his wrath against Halibut rose to still greater heights as he +saw the cruel position in which that schemer had placed him. Then he +made a sudden resolution. There was no condition as to secrecy, and, +first turning the conversation on to indoor amusements, he told the +astonished Mrs. Riddel the full particulars of the fatal game. Mrs. +Riddel said that she would never forgive them; it was the most +preposterous thing she had ever heard of. And she demanded hotly whether +she was to spend the rest of her life in refusing Mr. Halibut.</p> + +<p>"Do you play high as a rule?" she inquired, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Sixpence a game," replied the Major, simply.</p> + +<p>The corners of Mrs. Riddel's mouth relaxed, and her fine eyes began to +water; then she turned her head away and laughed. "It was very foolish +of us, I admit," said the Major, ruefully, "and very wrong. I shouldn't +have told you, only I couldn't explain my apparent neglect without."</p> + +<p>"Apparent neglect?" repeated the widow, somewhat haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Well, put it down to a guilty conscience," said the Major; "it seems +years to me since I have seen you."</p> + +<p>"Remember the conditions, Major Brill," said Mrs. Riddel, with severity.</p> + +<p>"I shall not transgress them," replied the Major, seriously.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Riddel gave her head a toss, and regarded him from the corner of her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I am very angry with you, indeed," she said, severely. The Major +apologized again. "For losing," added the lady, looking straight before +her.</p> + +<p>Major Brill caught his breath and his knees trembled beneath him. He +made a half-hearted attempt to seize her hand, and then remembering his +position, sighed deeply and looked straight before him. They walked on +in silence.</p> + +<p>"I think," said his companion at last, "that, if you like, you can get +back at cribbage what you lost at chess. That is, of course, if you +really want to."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't play," said the Major, shaking his head.</p> + +<p>"No, but I will," said Mrs. Riddel, with a smile. "I think I've got a +plan."</p> + +<p>She blushed charmingly, and then, in modest alarm at her boldness, +dropped her voice almost to a whisper. The Major gazed at her in +speechless admiration and threw back his head in ecstasy. "Come round +to-morrow afternoon," said Mrs. Riddel, pausing at the end of the lane. +"Mr. Halibut shall be there, too, and it shall be done under his very +eyes."</p> + +<p>Until that time came the Major sat at home carefully rehearsing his part, +and it was with an air of complacent virtue that he met the somewhat +astonished gaze of the persistent Halibut next day. It was a bright +afternoon, but they sat indoors, and Mrs. Riddel, after an animated +description of a game at cribbage with Miss Philpotts the night before, +got the cards out and challenged Halibut to a game.</p> + +<p>They played two, both of which the diplomatic Halibut lost; then Mrs. +Riddel, dismissing him as incompetent, sat drumming on the table with her +fingers, and at length challenged the Major. She lost the first game +easily, and began the second badly. Finally, after hastily glancing at a +new hand, she flung the cards petulantly on the table, face downward.</p> + +<p>"Would you like my hand, Major Brill?" she demanded, with a blush.</p> + +<p>"Better than anything in the world," cried the Major, eagerly.</p> + +<p>Halibut started, and Miss Philpotts nearly had an accident with her +crochet hook. The only person who kept cool was Mrs. Riddel, and it was +quite clear to the beholders that she had realized neither the ambiguity +of her question nor the meaning of her opponent's reply.</p> + +<p>"Well, you may have it," she said, brightly.</p> + +<p>Before Miss Philpotts could lay down her work, before Mr. Halibut could +interpose, the Major took possession of Mrs. Riddel's small white hand +and raised it gallantly to his lips. Mrs. Riddel, with a faint scream +which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. +"I meant my hand of cards," she said, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Really, Brill, really," said Halibut, stepping forward fussily.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the Major, blankly; "cards!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I meant, of course," said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself +with a laugh. "I had no idea still—if you prefer—-" The Major took +her hand again, and Miss Philpotts set Mr. Halibut an example—which he +did not follow—by gazing meditatively out of the window. Finally she +gathered up her work and quitted the room. Mrs. Riddel smiled over at +Mr. Halibut and nodded toward the Major.</p> + +<a name="006"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="006.jpg (91K)" src="images/006.jpg" height="723" width="507"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"Don't you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?" she +inquired, softly.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell Major Brill what I think of him when I get him alone," said +the injured gentleman, sourly.</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + + +<a name="c10"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +AN ADULTERATION ACT +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>Dr. Frank Carson had been dreaming tantalizing dreams of cooling, +effervescent beverages. Over and over again in his dreams he had risen +from his bed, and tripping lightly down to the surgery in his pajamas, +mixed himself something long and cool and fizzy, without being able to +bring the dream to a satisfactory termination.</p> + +<p>With a sudden start he awoke. The thirst was still upon him; the +materials for quenching it, just down one flight of stairs. He would +have smacked his lips at the prospect if they had been moist enough to +smack; as it was, he pushed down the bedclothes, and throwing one leg out +of bed-became firmly convinced that he was still dreaming.</p> + +<p>For the atmosphere was stifling and odorous, and the ceiling descended in +an odd bulging curve to within a couple of feet of his head. Still half +asleep, he raised his fist and prodded at it in astonishment—a feeling +which gave way to one of stupefaction as the ceiling took another shape +and swore distinctly.</p> + +<p>"I must be dreaming," mused the doctor; "even the ceiling seems alive."</p> + +<p>He prodded it again-regarding it closely this time. The ceiling at once +rose to greater altitudes, and at the same moment an old face with bushy +whiskers crawled under the edge of it, and asked him profanely what he +meant by it. It also asked him whether he wanted something for himself, +because, if so, he was going the right way to work.</p> + +<p>"Where am I?" demanded the bewildered doctor. "Mary! Mary!"</p> + +<p>He started up in bed, and brought his head in sudden violent contact with +the ceiling. Then, before the indignant ceiling could carry out its +threat of a moment before, he slipped out of bed and stood on a floor +which was in its place one moment and somewhere else the next.</p> + +<p>In the smell of bilge-water, tar, and the foetid atmosphere generally his +clouded brain awoke to the fact that he was on board ship, but resolutely +declined to inform him how he got there. He looked down in disgust at +the ragged clothes which he had on in lieu of the usual pajamas; and +then, as events slowly pieced themselves together in his mind, +remembered, as the last thing that he could remember, that he had warned +his friend Harry Thomson, solicitor, that if he had any more to drink it +would not be good for him.</p> + +<p>He wondered dimly as he stood whether Thomson was there too, and walking +unsteadily round the forecastle, roused the sleepers, one by one, and +asked them whether they were Harry Thomson, all answering with much +fluency in the negative, until he came to one man who for some time made +no answer at all.</p> + +<p>The doctor shook him first and then punched him. Then he shook him again +and gave him little scientific slaps, until at length Harry Thomson, in a +far-away voice, said that he was all right.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad I'm not alone," said the doctor, selfishly. "<i>Harry! +Harry! Wake up!</i>"</p> + +<p>"All ri'!" said the sleeper; "I'm all ri'!"</p> + +<p>The doctor shook him again, and then rolled him backward and forward in +his bunk. Under this gentle treatment the solicitor's faculties were +somewhat brightened, and, half opening his eyes, he punched viciously at +the disturber of his peace, until threatening voices from the gloom +promised to murder both of them.</p> + +<p>"Where are we?" demanded the doctor, of a deep voice from the other side +of the forecastle which had been particularly threatening.</p> + +<p>"Barque <i>Stella,</i> o' course," was the reply. "Where'd you think you +was?"</p> + +<p>The doctor gripped the edge of his friend's bunk and tried to think; +then, a feeling of nausea overcoming all others, he clambered hurriedly +up the forecastle ladder and lurched to the side of the vessel.</p> + +<p>He leaned there for some time without moving, a light breeze cooling his +fevered brow, and a small schooner some little distance from them playing +seesaw, as he closed his eyes to the heaving blue sea. Land was +conspicuous by its absence, and with a groan he turned and looked about +him—at the white scrubbed deck, the snowy canvas towering aloft on +lazily creaking spars, and the steersman leaning against the wheel +regarding the officer who stood near by.</p> + +<p>Dr. Carson, feeling a little better, walked sternly aft, the officer +turning round and glancing in surprise at his rags as he approached.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," began the doctor, in superior tones.</p> + +<p>"And what the devil do you want?" demanded the second officer; "who told +you to come along here?"</p> + +<p>"I want to know what this means," said the doctor, fiercely. "How dare +you kidnap us on your beastly bilge-tank?"</p> + +<p>"Man's mad," murmured the astonished second officer.</p> + +<p>"Insufferable outrage!" continued the doctor. "Take us back to +Melbourne at once."</p> + +<p>"You get for'ard," said the other sharply; "get for'ard, and don't let me +have any more of your lip."</p> + +<p>"I want to see the captain of this ship," cried the doctor; "go and fetch +him at once."</p> + +<a name="007"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="007.jpg (100K)" src="images/007.jpg" height="779" width="542"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>The second officer gazed at him, limp with astonishment, and then turned +to the steersman, as though unable to believe his ears. The steersman +pointed in front of him, and the other gave a cry of surprise and rage as +he saw another tatterdemalion coming with uncertain steps toward him.</p> + +<p>"Carson," said the new arrival, feebly; and coming closer to his friend, +clung to him miserably.</p> + +<p>"I'm just having it out with 'em, Thomson," said the doctor, +energetically. "My friend here is a solicitor. Tell him what 'll happen +if they don't take us back, Harry."</p> + +<p>"You seem to be unaware, my good fellow," said the solicitor, covering a +large hole in the leg of his trousers with his hand, "of the very +dangerous situation in which you have placed yourselves. We have no +desire to be harsh with you—"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," acquiesced the doctor, nodding at the second officer.</p> + +<p>"At the same time," continued Mr. Thomson—"at the—" He let go his +friend's arm and staggered away; the doctor gazed after him +sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"His digestion is not all it should be," he said to the second officer, +confidentially.</p> + +<p>"If you don't get for'ard in two twos," said that gentleman, explosively, +"I'll knock your heads off."</p> + +<p>The doctor gazed at him in haughty disdain, and taking the limp Thomson +by the arm, led him slowly away.</p> + +<p>"How did we get here?" asked Mr. Harry Thomson, feebly.</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head.</p> + +<p>"How did we get these disgusting clothes on?" continued his friend.</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head again. "The last thing I can remember, Harry," +he said, slowly, "was imploring you not to drink any more."</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear you," said the solicitor, crustily; "your speech was very +indistinct last night."</p> + +<p>"Seemed so to you, I dare say," said the other.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thomson shook his arm off, and clinging to the mainmast, leaned his +cheek against it and closed his eyes. He opened them again at the sound +of voices, and drew himself up as he saw the second officer coming along +with a stern-visaged man of about fifty.</p> + +<p>"Are you the master of this vessel?" inquired the doctor, stepping to +his friend's side.</p> + +<p>"What the blazes has that got to do with you?" demanded the skipper. +"Look here, my lads; don't you play any of your little games on me, +because they won't do. You're both of you as drunk as owls."</p> + +<p>"Defamation of character," said the solicitor, feebly, to his friend.</p> + +<p>"Allow me," said the doctor, with his best manner, "to inquire what all +this means. I am Dr. Frank Carson, of Melbourne; this gentleman is my +friend Mr. Thomson, of the same place, solicitor."</p> + +<p>"What?" roared the skipper, the veins in his forehead standing out. +"Doctor! Solicitor! Why, you damned rascals, you shipped with me as +cook and A. B."</p> + +<p>"There's some mistake," said the doctor. "I'm afraid I shall have to ask +you to take us back. I hope you haven't come far."</p> + +<p>"Take those scarecrows away," cried the skipper, hoarsely; "take them +away before I do them a mischief. I'll have the law of somebody for +shipping two useless lubbers as seamen. Look to me like pickpockets."</p> + +<p>"You shall answer for this," said Carson, foaming; "we're professional +men, and we're not going to be abused by a bargee."</p> + +<p>"Let him talk," said Mr. Thomson, hurriedly drawing his friend away from +the irate skipper. "Let him talk."</p> + +<p>"I'll put you both in quod when we get to Hong-kong," said the skipper. +"Meantime, no work, no food; d'ye hear? Start and cook the breakfast, +Mr. Doctor; and you. Mr. Lawyer, turn to and ask the boy to teach you an +A. B's duties."</p> + +<p>He walked back to the cabin; and the new cook was slowly pushed toward +the galley by the second officer, the new A. B., under the same gentle +guidance, being conducted back to the forecastle.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for the new seamen the weather continued fine, but the heat +of the galley was declared by the new cook to be insupportable. From the +other hands they learned that they had been shipped with several others +by a resourceful boarding-house master. The other hands, being men of +plain speech, also said that they were brought aboard in a state of +beastly and enviable intoxication, and chaffed crudely when the doctor +attributed their apparent state of intoxication to drugs.</p> + + +<a name="008"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="008.jpg (80K)" src="images/008.jpg" height="873" width="469"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"You say you're a doctor?" said the oldest seaman.</p> + +<p>"I am," said Carson, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Wot sort of a doctor are you, if you don't know when your licker's been +played with, then?" asked the old man, as a grin passed slowly from mouth +to mouth.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is because I drink so seldom," said the doctor, loftily. +"I hardly know the taste of liquor myself, while as for my friend Mr. +Thomson, you might almost call him a teetotaler.</p> + +<p>"Next door to one," said the solicitor, who was sewing a patch on his +trousers, as he looked up approvingly.</p> + +<p>"You might call 'im a sailor, if you liked," said another seaman, "but +that wouldn't make him one. All I can say is I never 'ad enough time or +money to get in the state you was both in when you come aboard."</p> + +<p>If the forecastle was incredulous, the cabin was worse. The officers at +first took but little notice of them, but feeling their torn and tattered +appearance was against them, they put on so many airs and graces to +counteract this that flesh and blood could not endure it quietly. The +cook would allude to his friend as Mr. Thomson, while the A. B. would +persist in referring, with a most affected utterance, to Dr. Carson.</p> + +<p>"Cook!" bawled the skipper one day when they were about a week out.</p> + +<p>Dr. Carson, who was peeling potatoes, stepped slowly out of the galley +and went toward him.</p> + +<p>"You say 'Sir,' when you're spoken to," said the skipper, fiercely.</p> + +<p>The doctor sneered.</p> + +<p>"My — if you sneer at me, I'll knock your head off!" said the other, +with a wicked look.</p> + +<p>"When you get back to Melbourne," said the doctor, quietly, "you'll hear +more of this."</p> + +<p>"You're a couple of pickpockets aping the gentleman," said the skipper, +and he turned to the mate. "Mr. Mackenzie, what do these two ragamuffins +look like?"</p> + +<p>"Pickpockets," said the mate, dutifully.</p> + +<p>"It's a very handy thing," said the old man, jeeringly, "to have a doctor +aboard. First time I've carried a surgeon."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mackenzie guffawed loudly.</p> + +<p>"And a solicitor," said the skipper, gazing darkly at the hapless Harry +Thomson, who was cleaning brasswork. "Handy in case of disputes. He's a +real sea lawyer. <i>Cook!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Sir?" said the doctor, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Go down and tidy my cabin, and see you do it well."</p> + +<p>The doctor went below without a word, and worked like a housemaid. When +he came on deck again, his face wore a smile almost of happiness, and his +hand caressed one trousers pocket as though it concealed a hidden weapon.</p> + +<p>For the following three or four days the two unfortunates were worked +unceasingly. Mr. Thomson complained bitterly, but the cook wore a +sphinx-like smile and tried to comfort him.</p> + +<p>"It won't be for long, Harry," he said, consolingly.</p> + +<p>The solicitor sniffed. "I could write tract after tract on temperance," +he said, bitterly. "I wonder what our poor wives are thinking? I expect +they have put us down as dead."</p> + +<p>"Crying their eyes out," said the doctor, wistfully; "but they'll dry +them precious quick when we get back, and ask all sorts of questions. +What are you going to say, Harry?"</p> + +<p>"The truth," said the solicitor, virtuously.</p> + +<p>"So am I," said his friend; "but mind, we must both tell the same tale, +whatever it is. Halloa! what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"It's the skipper," said the boy, who had just run up; "he wants to see +you at once. He's dying."</p> + +<p>He caught hold of the doctor by the sleeve; but Carson, in his most +professional manner, declined to be hurried. He went leisurely down the +companion-ladder, and met with a careless glance the concerned faces of +the mate and second officer.</p> + +<p>"Come to the skipper at once," said the mate.</p> + +<p>"Does he want to see me?" said the doctor, languidly, as he entered the +cabin.</p> + +<p>The skipper was lying doubled up in his bunk, his face twisted with pain. +"Doctor," he panted, "give me something quick. There's the medicine-chest."</p> + +<p>"Do you want some food, sir?" inquired the other, respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Food be damned!" said the sufferer. "I want physic. There's the +medicine-chest." The doctor took it up and held it out to him. "I don't +want the lot," moaned the skipper.</p> + +<p>"I want you to give me something for red-hot corkscrews in the inside."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said the doctor, humbly; "I'm only the cook."</p> + +<p>"If you—don't—prescribe for me at once," said the skipper, "I'll put +you in irons."</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head. "I shipped as cook," he said, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Give me something, for Heaven's sake!" said the skipper, humbly. "I'm +dying." The doctor pondered.</p> + +<p>"If you dinna treat him at once, I'll break your skull," said the mate, +persuasively.</p> + +<p>The doctor regarded him scornfully, and turned to the writhing skipper.</p> + +<p>"My fee is half a guinea a visit," he said, softly; "five shillings if +you come to me."</p> + +<p>"I'll have half a guinea's worth," said the agonized skipper.</p> + +<p>The doctor took his wrist, and calmly drew the second officer's watch +from its owner's pocket. Then he inspected the sick man's tongue, and +shaking his head, selected a powder from the chest.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't mind its being nasty," he said. "Where's a spoon?"</p> + +<p>He looked round for one, but the skipper took the powder from his hand, +and licked it from the paper as though it had been sherbet.</p> + +<p>"For mercy's sake don't say it's cholera," he gasped.</p> + +<p>"I won't say anything," said the doctor. "Where did you say the money +was?"</p> + +<p>The skipper pointed to his trousers, and Mr. Mackenzie, his national +spirit rising in hot rage, took out the agreed amount and handed it to +the physician.</p> + +<p>"Am I in danger?" said the skipper.</p> + +<p>"There's always danger," said the doctor, in his best bedside manner. +"Have you made your will?"</p> + +<p>The other, turning pale, shook his head. "Perhaps you'd like to see a +solicitor?" said Carson, in winning tones.</p> + +<p>"I'm not bad enough for that," said the skipper, stoutly.</p> + +<p>"You must stay here and nurse the skipper, Mr. Mackenzie," said Carson, +turning to the mate; "and be good enough not to make that snuffling +noise; it's worrying to an invalid."</p> + +<p>"Snuffling noise?" repeated the horror-struck mate.</p> + +<p>"Yes; you've got an unpleasant habit of snuffling," said the doctor; "it +sometimes. I worries me meant to speak to you about it before. You +mustn't do it here. If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck."</p> + +<p>The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper. "Don't +make that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie," he said, severely.</p> + +<p>Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the +sufferer's bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend. Mr. +Thomson was at first incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at the +sight of the half-sovereign.</p> + +<p>"Better hide it," he said, apprehensively; "the skipper 'll have it back +when he gets well; it's the only coin we've got."</p> + +<p>"He won't get well," said Dr. Carson, easily; "not till we get to Hong-kong, that is."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with him?" whispered the solicitor.</p> + +<p>The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head. "It +may be the cooking," he said, slowly. "I'm not a good cook, I admit. It +might be something got into the food from the medicine-chest. I +shouldn't be at all surprised if the mates are taken bad too."</p> + +<p>And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley again, +bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in his bunk, +punching the air with his fists and rending it with his language. The +second officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, and glancing +forward, called out loudly for the cook.</p> + +<p>"You're wanted, Frank," said the solicitor.</p> + +<p>"When he calls me doctor, I'll go," said the other, stiffly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Cook!</i>" bawled the second officer. "<i>Cook!</i> COOK!"</p> + +<p>He came running forward, his face red and angry, and his fist doubled. +"Didn't you hear me calling you?" he demanded, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"I've been promoted," said Carson, sweetly. "I'm ship's surgeon now."</p> + +<p>"Come down below at once, or I'll take you there by the scruff of your +neck," vociferated the other.</p> + +<p>"You're not big enough, little man," said the doctor, still smiling. +"Well, well, lead the way, and we'll see what we can do."</p> + +<p>He followed the speechless second officer below, and found the boy's +description of the first officer's state as moonlight unto sunlight, as +water unto wine. Even the second officer was appalled at the spectacle, +and ventured a protest.</p> + +<p>"Gie me something at once," yelled Mr. Mackenzie.</p> + +<p>"Do you wish me to undertake your case?" inquired the doctor, suavely.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mackenzie said that he did, in seven long, abusive, and wicked +sentences.</p> + +<p>"My fee is half a guinea," said the doctor, softly, "poor people who +cannot afford more, mates and the like, I sometimes treat for less."</p> + +<p>"I'll die first," howled the mate; "you won't get any money out of me."</p> + +<p>"Very good," said the doctor, and rose to depart.</p> + +<p>"Bring him back, Rogers," yelled the mate; "don't let him go."</p> + +<p>But the second officer, with a strange awesome look in his eyes, was +leaning back in his seat, tightly gripping the edge of the table in both +hands.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said the doctor, cheerily—"what's this? You mustn't be +ill, Rogers. I want you to nurse these other two."</p> + +<p>The other rose slowly to his feet and eyed him with lack-lustre eyes. +"Tell the third officer to take charge," he said, slowly; "and if he's to +be nurse as well, he's got his hands full."</p> + +<p>The doctor sent the boy to apprise the third officer of his +responsibilities, and then stood watching the extraordinary and snakelike +convolutions of Mr. Mackenzie.</p> + +<p>"How much—did—ye say?" hissed the latter.</p> + +<p>"Poor people," repeated the doctor, with relish, "five shillings a visit; +very poor people, half a crown."</p> + +<p>"I'll have half a crown's worth," moaned the miserable mate.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mackenzie," said a faint voice from the skipper's cabin.</p> + +<p>"Sir?" yelled the mate, who was in torment.</p> + +<p>"Don't answer me like that, sir," said the skipper, sharply. "Will you +please to remember that I'm ill, and can't bear that horrible noise +you're making?"</p> + +<p>"I'm—ill—too," gasped the mate.</p> + +<p>"Ill? Nonsense!" said the skipper, severely. "We can't both be ill. +How about the ship?"</p> + +<p>There was no reply, but from another cabin the voice of Mr. Rogers was +heard calling wildly for medical aid, and offering impossible sums in +exchange for it. The doctor went from cabin to cabin, and, first +collecting his fees, administered sundry potions to the sufferers; and +then, in his capacity of cook, went forward and made an unsavory mess he +called gruel, which he insisted upon their eating.</p> + +<p>Thanks to his skill, the invalids were freed from the more violent of +their pains, but this freedom was followed by a weakness so alarming that +they could hardly raise their heads from their pillows—a state of things +which excited the intense envy of the third officer, who, owing to his +responsibilities, might just as well have been without one.</p> + +<p>In this state of weakness, and with the fear of impending dissolution +before his eyes, the skipper sent for Mr. Harry Thomson, and after some +comparisons between lawyers and sharks, in which stress was laid upon +certain redeeming features of the latter, paid a guinea and made his +will. His example, save in the amount of the fee, was followed by the +mate; but Mr. Rogers, being approached tentatively by the doctor in his +friend's behalf, shook his head and thanked his stars he had nothing to +leave. He had enjoyed his money, he said.</p> + +<p>They mended slowly as they approached Hong-kong, though a fit of temper +on Mr. Mackenzie's part, during which he threw out ominous hints about +having his money back, led to a regrettable relapse in his case. He was +still in bed when they came to anchor in the harbour; but the skipper and +his second officer were able to go above and exchange congratulations +from adjoining deck-chairs.</p> + +<p>"You are sure it wasn't cholera?" asked the harbour-master's deputy, who +had boarded them in his launch, after he had heard the story.</p> + +<p>"Positive," said Carson.</p> + +<p>"Very fortunate thing they had you on board," said the deputy—"very +fortunate."</p> + +<p>The doctor bowed.</p> + +<p>"Seems so odd, the three of them being down with it," said the other; +"looks as though it's infectious, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said the doctor, accepting with alacrity an offer to +go ashore in the launch and change into some decent clothes. "I think I +know what it was."</p> + + +<a name="009"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="009.jpg (39K)" src="images/009.jpg" height="525" width="440"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<p>The captain of the <i>Stella</i> pricked up his ears, and the second officer +leaned forward with parted lips. Carson, accompanied by the deputy and +the solicitor, walked toward the launch.</p> + +<p>"What was it?" cried the skipper, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I think that you ate something that disagreed with you," replied the +doctor, grinning meaningly. "Good-by, captain."</p> + +<p>The master of the <i>Stella</i> made no reply, but rising feebly, tottered to +the side, and shook his fist at the launch as it headed for the shore. +Doctor Carson, who had had a pious upbringing, kissed his hand in return.</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + +<a name="c11"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +A GOLDEN VENTURE +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>The elders of the Tidger family sat at breakfast—Mrs. Tidger with knees +wide apart and the youngest Tidger nestling in the valley of print-dress +which lay between, and Mr. Tidger bearing on one moleskin knee a small +copy of himself in a red flannel frock and a slipper. The larger Tidger +children took the solids of their breakfast up and down the stone-flagged +court outside, coming in occasionally to gulp draughts of very weak tea +from a gallipot or two which stood on the table, and to wheedle Mr. +Tidger out of any small piece of bloater which he felt generous enough +to bestow.</p> + +<p>"Peg away, Ann," said Mr. Tidger, heartily.</p> + +<p>His wife's elder sister shook her head, and passing the remains of her +slice to one of her small nephews, leaned back in her chair. "No +appetite, Tidger," she said, slowly.</p> + +<p>"You should go in for carpentering," said Mr. Tidger, in justification of +the huge crust he was carving into mouthfuls with his pocket-knife. +"Seems to me I can't eat enough sometimes. Hullo, who's the letter for?"</p> + +<p>He took it from the postman, who stood at the door amid a bevy of Tidgers +who had followed him up the court, and slowly read the address.</p> + +<p>"'Mrs. Ann Pullen,'" he said, handing it over to his sister-in-law; "nice +writing, too."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pullen broke the envelope, and after a somewhat lengthy search for +her pocket, fumbled therein for her spectacles. She then searched the +mantelpiece, the chest of drawers, and the dresser, and finally ran them +to earth on the copper.</p> + +<p>She was not a good scholar, and it took her some time to read the letter, +a proceeding which she punctuated with such "Ohs" and "Ahs" and gaspings +and "God bless my souls" as nearly drove the carpenter and his wife, who +were leaning forward impatiently, to the verge of desperation.</p> + +<p>"Who's it from?" asked Mr. Tidger for the third time.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mrs. Pullen. "Good gracious, who ever would ha' +thought it!"</p> + +<p>"Thought what, Ann?" demanded the carpenter, feverishly.</p> + +<p>"Why don't people write their names plain?" demanded his sister-in-law, +impatiently. "It's got a printed name up in the corner; perhaps that's +it. Well, I never did—I don't know whether I'm standing on my head or +my heels."</p> + +<p>"You're sitting down, that's what you're a-doing," said the carpenter, +regarding her somewhat unfavourably.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's a take-in," said Mrs. Pullen, her lips trembling. "I've +heard o' such things. If it is, I shall never get over it—never."</p> + +<p>"Get—over—what?" asked the carpenter.</p> + +<p>"It don't look like a take-in," soliloquized Mrs. Pullen, "and I +shouldn't think anybody'd go to all that trouble and spend a penny to +take in a poor thing like me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tidger, throwing politeness to the winds, leaped forward, and +snatching the letter from her, read it with feverish haste, tempered +by a defective education.</p> + +<p>"It's a take-in, Ann," he said, his voice trembling; "it must be."</p> + +<p>"What is?" asked Mrs. Tidger, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Looks like it," said Mrs. Pullen, feebly.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" screamed Mrs. Tidger, wrought beyond all endurance.</p> + +<p>Her husband turned and regarded her with much severity, but Mrs. Tidger's +gaze was the stronger, and after a vain attempt to meet it, he handed her +the letter.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tidger read it through hastily, and then snatching the baby from her +lap, held it out with both arms to her husband, and jumping up, kissed +her sister heartily, patting her on the back in her excitement until she +coughed with the pain of it.</p> + +<p>"You don't think it's a take-in, Polly?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"Take-in?" said her sister; "of course it ain't. Lawyers don't play +jokes; their time's too valuable. No, you're an heiress all right, Ann, +and I wish you joy. I couldn't be more pleased if it was myself."</p> + +<p>She kissed her again, and going to pat her back once more, discovered +that she had sunk down sufficiently low in her chair to obtain the +protection of its back.</p> + +<p>"Two thousand pounds," said Mrs. Pullen, in an awestruck voice.</p> + +<p>"Ten hundered pounds twice over," said the carpenter, mouthing it slowly; +"twenty hundered pounds."</p> + +<p>He got up from the table, and instinctively realizing that he could not +do full justice to his feelings with the baby in his arms, laid it on the +teatray in a puddle of cold tea and stood looking hard at the heiress.</p> + +<p>"I was housekeeper to her eleven years ago," said Mrs. Pullen. "I wonder +what she left it to me for?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't know what to do with it, I should think," said the carpenter, +still staring openmouthed.</p> + +<p>"Tidger, I'm ashamed of you," said his wife, snatching her infant to her +bosom. "I expect you was very good to her, Ann."</p> + +<p>"I never 'ad no luck," said the impenitent carpenter. "Nobody ever left +me no money. Nobody ever left me so much as a fi-pun note."</p> + +<p>He stared round disdainfully at his poor belongings, and drawing on his +coat, took his bag from a corner, and hoisting it on his shoulder, +started to his work. He scattered the news as he went, and it ran up and +down the little main street of Thatcham, and thence to the outlying lanes +and cottages. Within a couple of hours it was common property, and the +fortunate legatee was presented with a congratulatory address every time +she ventured near the door.</p> + +<p>It is an old adage that money makes friends; the carpenter was surprised +to find that the mere fact of his having a moneyed relation had the same +effect, and that men to whom he had hitherto shown a certain amount of +respect due to their position now sought his company. They stood him +beer at the "Bell," and walked by his side through the street. When they +took to dropping in of an evening to smoke a pipe the carpenter was +radiant with happiness.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger," said the +wife of his bosom after they had retired one evening.</p> + +<p>"H'm?" said the startled carpenter.</p> + +<p>"What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?" demanded his +wife.</p> + +<p>"Smoke his pipe," replied her husband, confidently.</p> + +<p>"And old Wiggett?" persisted Mrs. Tidger.</p> + +<p>"Smoke his pipe," was the reply. "Why, what's the matter, Polly?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tidger sniffed derisively. "You men are all alike," she snapped. +"What do you think Ann wears that pink bodice for?"</p> + +<p>"I never noticed she 'ad a pink bodice, Polly," said the carpenter.</p> + +<p>"No? That's what I say. You men never notice anything," said his wife. +"If you don't send them two old fools off, I will."</p> + +<p>"Don't you like 'em to see Ann wearing pink?" inquired the mystified +Tidger.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tidger bit her lip and shook her head at him scornfully. "In plain +English, Tidger, as plain as I can speak it,"—she said, severely, +"they're after Ann and 'er bit o' money."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tidger gazed at her open-mouthed, and taking advantage of that fact, +blew out the candle to hide his discomposure. "What!" he said, blankly, +"at 'er time o' life?"</p> + +<p>"Watch 'em to-morrer," said his wife.</p> + +<p>The carpenter acted upon his instructions, and his ire rose as he noticed +the assiduous attention paid by his two friends to the frivolous Mrs. +Pullen. Mr. Wiggett, a sharp-featured little man, was doing most of the +talking, while his rival, a stout, clean-shaven man with a slow, oxlike +eye, looked on stolidly. Mr. Miller was seldom in a hurry, and lost many +a bargain through his slowness—a fact which sometimes so painfully +affected the individual who had outdistanced him that he would offer to +let him have it at a still lower figure.</p> + +<a name="010"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="010.jpg (62K)" src="images/010.jpg" height="513" width="508"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<p>"You get younger than ever, Mrs. Pullen," said Wiggett, the conversation +having turned upon ages.</p> + +<p>"Young ain't the word for it," said Miller, with a praiseworthy +determination not to be left behind.</p> + +<p>"No; it's age as you're thinking of, Mr. Wiggett," said the carpenter, +slowly; "none of us gets younger, do we, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"Some of us keeps young in our ways," said Mrs. Pullen, somewhat shortly.</p> + +<p>"How old should you say Ann is now?" persisted the watchful Tidger.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wiggett shook his head. "I should say she's about fifteen years +younger nor me," he said, slowly, "and I'm as lively as a cricket."</p> + +<p>"She's fifty-five," said the carpenter.</p> + +<p>"That makes you seventy, Wiggett," said Mr. Miller, pointedly. "I +thought you was more than that. You look it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Wiggett coughed sourly. "I'm fifty-nine," he growled. "Nothing 'll +make me believe as Mrs. Pullen's fifty-five, nor anywhere near it."</p> + +<p>"Ho!" said the carpenter, on his mettle—"ho! Why, my wife here was the +sixth child, and she—- He caught a gleam in the sixth child's eye, and +expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had +finished, and Mr. Tidger, noticing this, coughed again.</p> + +<p>"And she—" prompted Mr. Miller, displaying a polite interest.</p> + +<p>"She ain't so young as she was," said the carpenter.</p> + +<p>"Cares of a family," said Mr. Wiggett, plumping boldly. "I always +thought Mrs. Pullen was younger than her."</p> + +<p>"So did I," said Mr. Miller, "much younger."</p> + +<p>Mr. Wiggett eyed him sharply. It was rather hard to have Miller hiding +his lack of invention by participating in his compliments and even +improving upon them. It was the way he dealt at market-listening to +other dealers' accounts of their wares, and adding to them for his own.</p> + +<p>"I was noticing you the other day, ma'am," continued Mr. Wiggett. "I see +you going up the road with a step free and easy as a young girl's."</p> + +<p>"She allus walks like that," said Mr. Miller, in a tone of surprised +reproof.</p> + +<p>"It's in the family," said the carpenter, who had been uneasily watching +his wife's face.</p> + +<p>"Both of you seem to notice a lot," said Mrs. Tidger; "much more than you +used to."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tidger, who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed +again.</p> + +<p>"You ought to take something for that cough," said Mr. Wiggett, +considerately.</p> + +<p>"Gin and beer," said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist.</p> + +<p>"Bed's the best thing for it," said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was +beginning to show signs of getting out of hand.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got up, +and pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and looked at +Mr. Miller. That gentleman, who was apparently deep in some knotty +problem, was gazing at the floor, and oblivious for the time to his +surroundings.</p> + +<p>"Come along," said Wiggett, with feigned heartiness, slapping him on the +back.</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller, looking for a moment as though he would like to return the +compliment, came back to everyday life, and bidding the company good-night, +stepped to the door, accompanied by his rival. It was immediately +shut with some violence.</p> + +<p>"They seem in a hurry," said Wiggett. "I don't think I shall go there +again."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall," said Mr. Miller.</p> + +<p>After this neither of them was surprised to meet there again the next +night, and indeed for several nights. The carpenter and his wife, who +did not want the money to go out of the family, and were also afraid of +offending Mrs. Pullen, were at their wits' end what to do. Ultimately it +was resolved that Tidger, in as delicate a manner as possible, was to +hint to her that they were after her money. He was so vague and so +delicate that Mrs. Pullen misunderstood him, and fancying that he was +trying to borrow half a crown, made him a present of five shillings.</p> + +<p>It was evident to the slower-going Mr. Miller that his rival's tongue was +giving him an advantage which only the ever-watchful presence of the +carpenter and his wife prevented him from pushing to the fullest +advantage. In these circumstances he sat for two hours after breakfast +one morning in deep cogitation, and after six pipes got up with a twinkle +in his slow eyes which his brother dealers had got to regard as a danger +signal.</p> + +<p>He had only the glimmering of an idea at first, but after a couple of +pints at the "Bell" everything took shape, and he cast his eyes about for +an assistant. They fell upon a man named Smith, and the dealer, after +some thought, took up his glass and went over to him.</p> + +<p>"I want you to do something for me," he remarked, in a mysterious voice.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I've been wanting to see you," said Smith, who was also a dealer in +a small way. "One o' them hins I bought off you last week is dead."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you another for it," said Miller.</p> + +<p>"And the others are so forgetful," continued Mr. Smith.</p> + +<p>"Forgetful?" repeated the other.</p> + +<p>"Forget to lay, like," said Mr. Smith, musingly.</p> + +<p>"Never mind about them," said Mr. Miller, with some animation. "I want +you to do something for me. If it comes off all right, I'll give you a +dozen hins and a couple of decentish-sized pigs."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith called a halt. "Decentish-sized" was vague.</p> + +<p>"Take your pick," said Mr. Miller. "You know Mrs. Pullen's got two +thousand pounds—"</p> + +<p>"Wiggett's going to have it," said the other; "he as good as told me so."</p> + +<p>"He's after her money," said the other, sadly. "Look 'ere, Smith, I want +you to tell him she's lost it all. Say that Tidger told you, but you +wasn't to tell anybody else. Wiggett 'll believe you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith turned upon him a face all wrinkles, lit by one eye. "I want +the hins and the pigs first," he said, firmly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller, shocked at his grasping spirit, stared at him mournfully.</p> + +<p>"And twenty pounds the day you marry Mrs. Pullen," continued Mr. Smith.</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller, leading him up and down the sawdust floor, besought him to +listen to reason, and Mr. Smith allowed the better feelings of our common +human nature to prevail to the extent of reducing his demands to half a +dozen fowls on account, and all the rest on the day of the marriage. +Then, with the delightful feeling that he wouldn't do any work for a +week, he went out to drop poison into the ears of Mr. Wiggett.</p> + +<p>"Lost all her money!" said the startled Mr. Wiggett. "How?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know how," said his friend. "Tidger told me, but made me +promise not to tell a soul. But I couldn't help telling you, Wiggett, +'cause I know what you're after."</p> + +<p>"Do me a favour," said the little man.</p> + +<p>"I will," said the other.</p> + +<p>"Keep it from Miller as long as possible. If you hear any one else +talking of it, tell 'em to keep it from him. If he marries her I'll give +you a couple of pints."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith promised faithfully, and both the Tidgers and Mrs. Pullen were +surprised to find that Mr. Miller was the only visitor that evening. He +spoke but little, and that little in a slow, ponderous voice intended for +Mrs. Pullen's ear alone. He spoke disparagingly of money, and shook his +head slowly at the temptations it brought in its train. Give him a +crust, he said, and somebody to halve it with—a home-made crust baked by +a wife. It was a pretty picture, but somewhat spoiled by Mrs. Tidger +suggesting that, though he had spoken of halving the crust, he had said +nothing about the beer.</p> + +<p>"Half of my beer wouldn't be much," said the dealer, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Not the half you would give your wife wouldn't," retorted Mrs. Tidger.</p> + +<p>The dealer sighed and looked mournfully at Mrs. Pullen. The lady sighed +in return, and finding that her admirer's stock of conversation seemed to +be exhausted, coyly suggested a game of draughts. The dealer assented +with eagerness, and declining the offer of a glass of beer by explaining +that he had had one the day before yesterday, sat down and lost seven +games right off. He gave up at the seventh game, and pushing back his +chair, said that he thought Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful draught-player +he had ever seen, and took no notice when Mrs. Tidger, in a dry +voice charged with subtle meaning, said that she thought he was.</p> + +<p>"Draughts come natural to some people," said Mrs. Pullen, modestly. +"It's as easy as kissing your fingers."</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller looked doubtful; then he put his great fingers to his lips by +way of experiment, and let them fall unmistakably in the widow's +direction. Mrs. Pullen looked down and nearly blushed. The carpenter +and his wife eyed each other in indignant consternation.</p> + +<p>"That's easy enough," said the dealer, and repeated the offense.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pullen got up in some confusion, and began to put the draught-board +away. One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they both stooped to +recover it their heads bumped. It was nothing to the dealer's, but Mrs. +Pullen rubbed hers and sat down with her eyes watering. Mr. Miller took +out his handkerchief, and going to the scullery, dipped it into water and +held it to her head.</p> + +<p>"Is it better?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"A little better," said the victim, with a shiver.</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller, in his emotion, was squeezing the handkerchief hard, and a +cold stream was running down her neck.</p> + +<p>"Thank you. It's all right now."</p> + +<p>The dealer replaced the handkerchief, and sat for some time regarding her +earnestly. Then the carpenter and his wife displaying manifest signs of +impatience, he took his departure, after first inviting himself for +another game of draughts the following night.</p> + +<p>He walked home with the air of a conqueror, and thought exultingly that +the two thousand pounds were his. It was a deal after his own heart, and +not the least satisfactory part about it was the way he had got the +better of Wiggett.</p> + +<p>He completed his scheme the following day after a short interview with +the useful Smith. By the afternoon Wiggett found that his exclusive +information was common property, and all Thatcham was marvelling at the +fortitude with which Mrs. Pullen was bearing the loss of her fortune. +With a view of being out of the way when the denial was published, Mr. +Miller, after loudly expressing in public his sympathy for Mrs. Pullen +and his admiration of her qualities, drove over with some pigs to a +neighbouring village, returning to Thatcham in the early evening. Then +hurriedly putting his horse up he made his way to the carpenter's.</p> + +<p>The Tidgers were at home when he entered, and Mrs. Pullen flushed faintly +as he shook hands.</p> + +<p>"I was coming in before," he said, impressively, "after what I heard this +afternoon, but I had to drive over to Thorpe."</p> + +<p>"You 'eard it?" inquired the carpenter, in an incredulous voice.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said the dealer, "and very sorry I was. Sorry for one +thing, but glad for another."</p> + +<p>The carpenter opened his mouth and seemed about to speak. Then he +checked himself suddenly and gazed with interest at the ingenuous dealer.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad," said Mr. Miller, slowly, as he nodded at a friend of Mrs. +Tidger's who had just come in with a long face, "because now that Mrs. +Pullen is poor, I can say to her what I couldn't say while she was rich."</p> + +<p>Again the astonished carpenter was about to speak, but the dealer hastily +checked him with his hand.</p> + +<p>"One at a time," he said. "Mrs. Pullen, I was very sorry to hear this +afternoon, for your sake, that you had lost all your money. What I +wanted to say to you now, now that you are poor, was to ask you to be +Mrs. Miller. What d'ye say?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pullen, touched at so much goodness, wept softly and said, "Yes." +The triumphant Miller took out his handkerchief—the same that he had +used the previous night, for he was not an extravagant man—and tenderly +wiped her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm blowed!" said the staring carpenter.</p> + +<p>"I've got a nice little 'ouse," continued the wily Mr. Miller. "It's a +poor place, but nice, and we'll play draughts every evening. When shall +it be?"</p> + +<p>"When you like," said Mrs. Pullen, in a faint voice.</p> + +<p>"I'll put the banns up to-morrow," said the dealer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tidger's lady friend giggled at so much haste, but Mrs. Tidger, who +felt that she had misjudged him, was touched.</p> + +<p>"It does you credit, Mr. Miller," she said, warmly.</p> + +<p>"No, no," said the dealer; and then Mr. Tidger got up, and crossing the +room, solemnly shook hands with him.</p> + +<p>"Money or no money, she'll make a good wife," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're pleased," said the dealer, wondering at this cordiality.</p> + +<p>"I don't deny I thought you was after her money," continued the +carpenter, solemnly. "My missus thought so, too."</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller shook his head, and said he thought they would have known him +better.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is a great loss," said the carpenter. "Money is money."</p> + +<p>"That's all it is, though," said the slightly mystified Mr. Miller.</p> + +<p>"What I can't understand is," continued the carpenter, "'ow the news got +about. Why, the neighbours knew of it a couple of hours before we did."</p> + +<p>The dealer hid a grin. Then he looked a bit bewildered again.</p> + +<p>"I assure you," said the carpenter, "it was known in the town at least a +couple of hours before we got the letter."</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller waited a minute to get perfect control over his features. +"Letter?" he repeated, faintly.</p> + +<p>"The letter from the lawyers," said the carpenter.</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller was silent again. His features were getting tiresome. He +eyed the door furtively.</p> + +<p>"What-was-in-the letter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Short and sweet," said the carpenter, with bitterness. "Said it was all +a mistake, because they'd been and found another will. People shouldn't +make such mistakes."</p> + +<p>"We're all liable to make mistakes," said Miller, thinking he saw an +opening.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we made a mistake when we thought you was after Ann's money," +assented the carpenter. "I'm sure I thought you'd be the last man in the +world to be pleased to hear that she'd lost it. One thing is, you've got +enough for both."</p> + +<p>Mr. Miller made no reply, but in a dazed way strove to realize the full +measure of the misfortune which had befallen him. The neighbour, with +the anxiety of her sex to be the first with a bit of news, had already +taken her departure. He thought of Wiggett walking the earth a free man, +and of Smith with a three-months' bill for twenty pounds. His pride as a +dealer was shattered beyond repair, and emerging from a species of mist, +he became conscious that the carpenter was addressing him.</p> + +<a name="011"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="011.jpg (103K)" src="images/011.jpg" height="788" width="498"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<p>"We'll leave you two young things alone for a bit," said Mr. Tidger, +heartily. "We're going out. When you're tired o' courting you can play +draughts, and Ann will show you one or two of 'er moves. So long."</p> + +<br><br><hr><br><br> + +<a name="c12"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +THREE AT TABLE +</h2> +</center> +<br> + +<p>The talk in the coffee-room had been of ghosts and apparitions, and +nearly everybody present had contributed his mite to the stock of +information upon a hazy and somewhat thread-bare subject. Opinions +ranged from rank incredulity to childlike faith, one believer going so +far as to denounce unbelief as impious, with a reference to the Witch of +Endor, which was somewhat marred by being complicated in an inexplicable +fashion with the story of Jonah.</p> + +<p>"Talking of Jonah," he said solemnly, with a happy disregard of the fact +that he had declined to answer several eager questions put to him on the +subject, "look at the strange tales sailors tell us."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't advise you to believe all those," said a bluff, clean-shaven +man, who had been listening without speaking much. "You see when a +sailor gets ashore he's expected to have something to tell, and his +friends would be rather disappointed if he had not."</p> + +<p>"It's a well-known fact," interrupted the first speaker firmly, "that +sailors are very prone to see visions."</p> + +<p>"They are," said the other dryly, "they generally see them in pairs, and +the shock to the nervous system frequently causes headache next morning."</p> + +<p>"You never saw anything yourself?" suggested an unbeliever.</p> + +<p>"Man and boy," said the other, "I've been at sea thirty years, and the +only unpleasant incident of that kind occurred in a quiet English +countryside."</p> + +<p>"And that?" said another man.</p> + +<p>"I was a young man at the time," said the narrator, drawing at his pipe +and glancing good-humouredly at the company. "I, had just come back from +China, and my own people being away I went down into the country to +invite myself to stay with an uncle. When I got down to the place I +found it closed and the family in the South of France; but as they were +due back in a couple of days I decided to put up at the Royal George, +a very decent inn, and await their return.</p> + +<p>"The first day I passed well enough; but in the evening the dulness of +the rambling old place, in which I was the only visitor, began to weigh +upon my spirits, and the next morning after a late breakfast I set out +with the intention of having a brisk day's walk.</p> + +<p>"I started off in excellent spirits, for the day was bright and frosty, +with a powdering of snow on the iron-bound roads and nipped hedges, and +the country had to me all the charm of novelty. It was certainly flat, +but there was plenty of timber, and the villages through which I passed +were old and picturesque.</p> + +<p>"I lunched luxuriously on bread and cheese and beer in the bar of a small +inn, and resolved to go a little further before turning back. When at +length I found I had gone far enough, I turned up a lane at right angles +to the road I was passing, and resolved to find my way back by another +route. It is a long lane that has no turning, but this had several, each +of which had turnings of its own, which generally led, as I found by +trying two or three of them, into the open marshes. Then, tired of +lanes, I resolved to rely upon the small compass which hung from my watch +chain and go across country home.</p> + +<p>"I had got well into the marshes when a white fog, which had been for +some time hovering round the edge of the ditches, began gradually to +spread. There was no escaping it, but by aid of my compass I was saved +from making a circular tour and fell instead into frozen ditches or +stumbled over roots in the grass. I kept my course, however, until at +four o'clock, when night was coming rapidly up to lend a hand to the fog, +I was fain to confess myself lost.</p> + +<p>"The compass was now no good to me, and I wandered about miserably, +occasionally giving a shout on the chance of being heard by some passing +shepherd or farmhand. At length by great good luck I found my feet on a +rough road driven through the marshes, and by walking slowly and tapping +with my stick managed to keep to it. I had followed it for some distance +when I heard footsteps approaching me.</p> + +<p>"We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking countryman, +hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a mile, and putting +me on to a road gave me minute instructions how to reach a village some +three miles distant.</p> + +<p>"I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a +little way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window. I pointed it +out, but my companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily.</p> + +<p>"'You won't get no good there,' he said, hastily.</p> + +<p>"'Why not?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'There's a something there, sir,' he replied, 'what 'tis I dunno, but +the little 'un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts +see it, and it was never much good afterward. Some say as it's a poor +mad thing, others says as it's a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it +ain't good to see.'</p> + +<p>"'Well, I'll keep on, then,' I said. 'Goodnight.'</p> + +<p>"He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the +distance, and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided into +three, any one of which to a stranger might be said to lead straight on. +I was now cold and tired, and having half made up my mind walked slowly +back toward the house.</p> + +<p>"At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the +window. I made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found myself +walking into a tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came to a +small gate, and opening it cautiously, walked, not without some little +nervousness, up a long path which led to the door. There was no light and +no sound from within. Half repenting of my temerity I shortened my stick +and knocked lightly upon the door.</p> + +<p>"I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was +still beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old woman, +holding a candle, confronted me.</p> + +<p>"'What do you want?' she demanded gruffly.</p> + +<p>"'I've lost my way,' I said, civilly; 'I want to get to Ashville.'</p> + +<p>"'Don't know it,' said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the +side of the hall and came toward us. An old man of great height and +breadth of shoulder.</p> + +<p>"'Ashville is fifteen miles distant,' he said slowly.</p> + +<p>"'If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,' I +remarked.</p> + +<p>"He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the woman. +She made a gesture of dissent.</p> + +<p>"'The nearest place is three miles off,' he said, turning to me and +apparently trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; 'if you will give me +the pleasure of your company, I will make you as comfortable as I can.'</p> + +<p>"I hesitated. They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy +hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting +than the darkness outside.</p> + +<p>"'You are very kind,' I murmured, irresolutely, 'but—'</p> + +<p>"'Come in,' he said quickly; 'shut the door, Anne.'</p> + +<p>"Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman, +muttering to herself, had closed the door behind me. With a queer +sensation of being trapped I followed my host into the room, and taking +the proffered chair warmed my frozen fingers at the fire.</p> + +<p>"'Dinner will soon be ready,' said the old man, regarding me closely. 'If +you will excuse me.'</p> + +<p>"I bowed and he left the room. A minute afterward I heard voices; his +and the old woman's, and, I fancied, a third. Before I had finished my +inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange +look I had noticed before.</p> + +<p>"'There will be three of us at dinner,' he said, at length. 'We two and +my son.'</p> + +<p>"I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn't run in the +family.</p> + +<p>"'I suppose you don't mind dining in the dark,' he said, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"'Not at all,' I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, 'but +really I'm afraid I'm intruding. If you'll allow me—'</p> + +<p>"He waved his huge gaunt hands. 'We're not going to lose you now we've +got you,' he said, with a dry laugh. 'It's seldom we have company, and +now we've got you we'll keep you. My son's eyes are bad, and he can't +stand the light. Ah, here is Anne.'</p> + +<p>"As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to +lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the +hearth, sat looking silently into the fire. The table set, the old woman +brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three +chairs, left the room. The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising +from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly +extinguished the candles.</p> + +<p>"'Blind man's holiday,' he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his +way to the door opened it. Somebody came back into the room with him, +and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the +strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming +oppressive.</p> + +<p>"'A cold night,' it said slowly.</p> + +<p>"I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an +appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the +day. It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident +from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to +dining under such circumstances as I was. We ate in silence until the +old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a +crash upon the table.</p> + +<p>"'Are you a stranger about here?' inquired the curious voice again.</p> + +<p>"I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in +stumbling upon such a good dinner.</p> + +<p>"'Stumbling is a very good word for it,' said the voice grimly. 'You +have forgotten the port, father.'</p> + +<p>"'So I have,' said the old man, rising. 'It's a bottle of the +"Celebrated" to-day; I will get it myself.'</p> + +<p>"He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone +with my unseen neighbour. There was something so strange about the whole +business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"My host seemed to be absent a long time. I heard the man opposite lay +down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes +shining through the gloom like a cat's.</p> + +<p>"With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back. It caught +the hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over +with a crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of +the creature opposite. With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair +and stood with clenched fists beside it. Man or beast, which was it? +The flame leaped up and then went out, and in the mere red glow of the +fire it looked more devilish than before.</p> + +<p>"For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door +opened and the old man returned. He stood aghast as he saw the warm +firelight, and then approaching the table mechanically put down a couple +of bottles.</p> + +<p>"'I beg your pardon,' said I, reassured by his presence, 'but I have +accidentally overturned the screen. Allow me to replace it.'</p> + +<p>"'No,' said the old man, gently, 'let it be.</p> + +<p>"'We have had enough of the dark. I'll give you a light.'</p> + +<p>"He struck a match and slowly lit the candles. Then—I saw that the man +opposite had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which one +unquenched eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered. I was +greatly moved, some suspicion of the truth occurring to me.</p> + +<p>"'My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,' said the old +man. 'Since then we have lived a very retired life. When you came to +the door we—' his voice trembled, 'that is-my son—'</p> + +<p>"'I thought," said the son simply, 'that it would be better for me not to +come to the dinner-table. But it happens to be my birthday, and my +father would not hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish +plan of dining in the dark. I'm sorry I startled you.'</p> + +<p>"'I am sorry,' said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his +hand, 'that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you +startled me.'</p> + +<p>"From a faint tinge in the old man's cheek and a certain pleasant +softening of the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly +congratulated myself upon this last remark.</p> + +<p>"'We never see a friend,' said the old man, apologetically, 'and the +temptation to have company was too much for us. Besides, I don't know +what else you could have done.'</p> + +<p>"'Nothing else half so good, I'm sure,' said I.</p> + +<p>"'Come,' said my host, with almost a sprightly air. 'Now we know each +other, draw our chairs to the fire and let's keep this birthday in a +proper fashion.'</p> + +<p>"He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box of +cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to sit +down and drink. If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for +vivacity, and we were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen. The +night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears when in a +lull in the conversation a clock in the hall struck twelve.</p> + +<p>"'A last toast before we retire,' said my host, pitching the end of his +cigar into the fire and turning to the small table.</p> + +<p>"We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive in +the old man's manner as he rose and took up his glass. His tall figure +seemed to get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at his +disfigured son.</p> + +<p>"'The health of the children my boy saved!' he said, and drained his +glass at a draught."</p> + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lady of the Barge and Others, Entire +Collection, by W.W. 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